Fireflies at Midnight
by Silbrith
Summary: Peter and Neal head for rural New Jersey to help out at a summer camp for kids only to discover that they've arrived at ground zero for a vampire gathering. H/C: angst, curse. Fluff: Father's Day, summer camp. Travel: Jenny Jump State Forest. June 2005. Crossed Lines story #3, a fusion of Supernatural with Caffrey Conversation.
1. Jump for Jenny

_Notes: Fireflies at Midnight is the third story in the series Crossed Lines, a fusion of White Collar with Supernatural._ _Although it can be read as a standalone, it will make more sense if read after Witches' Sabbath. In the first story, I introduced two evil sisters, named Electra and Maia, who've set their sights on Neal and Sam. In case you'd like to refresh your memory about them, I've written about them for the blog in a post called "The Twisted Sisters of Crossed Lines." You'll find details about the blog in my notes at the end of the chapter._

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Jump for Jenny**

 **Motel Room, Springfield, Vermont. June 9, 2005. Thursday evening.**

"Something's coming, Dean, and it's not the Easter Bunny."

Bobby Singer's gruff voice could make happy news sound like you should jump off a cliff, but the growl coming through the phone this evening was on steroids.

Dean Winchester had a long acquaintance with his doom-is-at-hand pronouncements. When he and his brother Sam were kids, Bobby helped out during the long periods their dad was off hunting. Last year after their dad passed, Bobby stepped up to the plate even more. He was a hunter with more experience than they'd ever have and more knowledge about demons than Sam could ever learn, no matter how many hours he pored over his laptop. Bobby knew when to give them a swift kick in the butt. He was always there for him and Sam, no matter how they messed up. And if he was nervous, they sure as hell better be too.

"Lay it on me, Bobby. What have you heard?"

"Vampires. They're on the move. You know we've been dealing with a major population surge over the past few months."

"Tell me about it." Dean flopped on the bed in the motel room. "It's like they're trying to outdo the Baby Boomer generation with their special breed of free vampire love. This town we're in? Sleepy little place, but one honking-big vamps nest. We were able to gank three of them but the rest scattered."

"Battle scars to show for it?"

"Nah, we're good. Sam seems to have finally shaken off that bug he was never admitting to."

"Glad to hear it. It ain't natural for Sam to be dragging that way. Made me think he'd come down with mono."

"The kissing disease? Sam?" Dean broke into a laugh. "Don't let him hear you say it. I'm having a hard enough time to get him to ask a girl out."

"He's still grieving over Jessica, even if he won't admit it. Give him time. When my wife died, I didn't think I was ever going to want to be with another woman. Sam will come around."

"Yeah, maybe. So, what did you hear?"

"A couple of hunters in Massachusetts stumbled on a vamp. He was a renegade—not feeling the love of his nest. They were able to pry something useful out of him before dispatching him to Purgatory. He claimed there's some big event coming—the _anistemi_ he called it."

"Hold on a sec. Did you say Anastasia?"

" _Anistemi_. And before you ask, the hunters swear they got it right. They had the vamp spell it for them." Bobby did the same so Dean could write it down. "Vamps are gathering from all around for whatever it is. It's going down in your part of the country. They couldn't get the exact location out of him but the hunters feel sure it's in the Northeast."

Dean studied the word on the notepad, racking his brain. He came up with the big goose egg. "You got any idea of what we're dealing with? A vampire Woodstock?"

"I ain't got a clue, but I'm working on it. All I know is that it's happening soon—on the Summer Solstice."

"That's only twelve days away. We don't have much time to prepare for something we know nothing about. Are we talking Apocalypse big or new roadhouse diner big?"

"Stop asking me questions I can't answer. I'm guessing this ain't end-of-the world Armageddon, but with our luck you never know. I don't have a location for you either before you ask. But there's one other clue. The vamp didn't call it Summer Solstice. He said it'd happen at a Litha festival."

"Litha . . . Isn't that the Wiccan name for it?"

"You win the Kewpie doll. Your girlfriend Chloe—"

"She's not my girlfriend," Dean interrupted.

"Well, what do you call her?"

" _Chloe_ works."

"And you give Sam grief for his dating habits? Someday you boys are gonna grow up, but I can tell it won't be any time soon. You told me Chloe is researching Wiccans for the new novel she's writing. She's in your area. She may have heard something. As long as I'm in South Dakota, it's hard for me to do much. If this turns out to be as major an event as what those hunters claim, I may have to pull up stakes."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

When Sam returned with their dinner, Dean was on the phone. He was sprawled on the bed, a besotted smile on his face. "I'm not sure if that's possible in a sleeping bag, but for the sake of your novel, I'm willing to try." When he saw Sam, he sat up and made a quick end to the call, even pretending it was for business.

"How's Chloe?" Sam asked, plopping into a chair with his burger.

Dean pulled out two beers from the cooler and tossed him one. "What makes you think it was Chloe?"

"I don't know of anyone else writing a novel that you'd be exchanging sleeping bag tips with. You two planning to camp out?"

"No, you and I are." Dean popped the cap off his beer.

"I thought we'd decided we were heading to Indiana to check out the demon report in Scottsburg."

"We can do that too." Dean told him about Bobby's call. "I asked Chloe—you see, it was business—and the only Litha festival she knows about in the Northeast is being held in a place called Jenny Jump State Forest. It's in western New Jersey. That Wiccan coven she belongs to has been talking about it for weeks. Supposedly it'll be the biggest pagan festival the East Coast has ever seen."

Sam pulled out his laptop. "What's the name of the event?"

"They're calling it The Fires of Litha."

"Found it." Sam scanned the webpage. "The festival's being held in conjunction with other events taking place in the local town, called Hope. There's a weeklong craft fair, farmers market. . . ."

"How many days will The Fires of Litha last?"

"Two. It starts on the twentieth and culminates with the bonfire on the twenty-first." He scrolled down to the bottom of the page. "It's geared for nature-lovers with several field trips and workshops. Oh, and there's a featured speaker—some scholar from England." Sam looked up. "It's hard to see why vamps would pick a Litha festival for this anistemi they're having. Is there any connection between Wiccans and vampires that Bobby knows of?"

"He hasn't found anything yet. He's checking with his contacts." A frown crossed Dean's face. "I don't like it. A lot of innocents traipsing around singing songs, dancing. It could be easy pickings for vamps." He reached into the bag for a second burger.

"Yeah, but it's hard to believe they're planning a slaughter. That's not their style. Vamps stay in small nests. They don't want to attract attention. Why would they want to assemble in a large group?"

"I don't know and that bugs me," Dean admitted. "The two events may be unconnected. The vamps could be taking advantage of a lot of folks being around to hold their own ritual."

Sam put aside his laptop and reached for his burger. "How do you want to handle it?"

"We'll go to Scottsburg tomorrow. We should be back in time for the start of the festival. Chloe says that most of the pagan crowd is camping out. She's not, of course."

"I don't blame her. Why would anyone who can stay at historic inns for a discount opt for a tent?"

"You gotta admire her style. Chloe's staying in that town you mentioned—Hope. She said Mozzie and his girlfriend Janet also plan to attend the festival."

Sam tossed the burger wrapper into the wastebasket. "Wasn't Chloe talking about going on a field trip with Janet?"

"This is the trip. Janet's scheduled to lead some nature walks. Who knows what Mozzie's planning to do."

"I'll check our credit card situation. We could probably use some new IDs. Mozzie said he was good for as many as we wanted."

Dean smiled. "This could be one job where we'll wind up money ahead."

 **French Café Gourmand, New York City. June 10, 2005. Friday lunch.**

 _Wait for it. Wait for it . . ._

Neal set down his fork and eyed the two men sitting across the table from him. Not that it was that unusual for Peter to invite him to lunch. It was a little unexpected that he also included tech expert Travis Miller, but Travis was a good friend to both of them. Peter volunteered with Travis at a telescope workshop for kids run by Columbia University. Neal's art authentication niche in the White Collar lab was next to Travis's workstation.

But the choice of restaurant was a giveaway. Peter liked delis. Travis was a vegetarian but preferred hearty, spicy food. So when Peter suggested the French Café Gourmand, Neal suspected an ulterior motive. His finely honed skills as a con artist weren't necessary to know he was being buttered up.

What he didn't understand was what scheme they were trying to pull.

But, hey, he was happy to let them run with it. He'd gladly play the role of mark while enjoying his salmon and goat cheese quiche.

The would-be con artists tipped their hand early into lunch. "Man, can you believe how hot it is outside," Peter said. "They could have used the pavement to fry the egg that's on top of my croissant."

"This is the kind of weather that makes you long to escape from the city for the countryside," Travis agreed. "It's perfect for camping."

Travis craving a rural retreat? Neal was careful not to display his amusement at the remark. Now if he'd said he longed to escape to Mars or Vulcan, Neal would have understood. Travis, an astronomy and science fiction enthusiast whose hero was Spock, would gladly blast off in a spaceship, but he'd never displayed any Daniel Boone tendencies.

"June 20 can't come soon enough," Peter said wistfully.

What was happening on that date? Peter hadn't mentioned anything, but he'd been busy on a mortgage fraud case recently. During such times Neal liked to keep a low profile. "Are you taking a trip?" he asked innocently. Nobody could play the naïve mark better than him.

"Travis and I both are. Three idyllic days in western New Jersey. Daniel Leavitt who oversees the telescope workshops arranged for a summer astronomy camp for the kids."

"We're partnering with a nature camp run by New Jersey Audubon in Jenny Jump State Forest," Travis explained. "The New Jersey astronomy clubs maintain an observatory there. The nature camp is Monday through Friday. For the first three days, our kids will join us for daytime workshops and nighttime observing. They'll stay at the nature camp and eat there. We'll only have them for a few hours each day."

"El's coming along to help with the kids." Peter scooped up the few remaining crumbs of his croissant on the plate. Neal saw his eyes stray longingly to the dessert card on the table. "She also plans to attend a craft fair being held nearby in the town of Hope."

"The town's almost like an art colony," Travis added enthusiastically. "I was told craftsmen from the entire region will be exhibiting." Neal hid his smile. Despite his partner Richard being an artist, Travis's appreciation of art was limited to sci-fi monsters and spacescapes.

"Didn't Mozzie mention this to you?" Peter asked. "He's also helping out at the camp. Janet's going with him."

"Janet, too? With so many adults there, will you have enough kids to go around?" _Wait for it . . ._

Peter shook his head firmly. "That's not the case at all. Janet will be dividing her time between our camp and a summer solstice festival which is also being held in the park. She's serving as leader for some of the field trips. You remember Chloe? She's attending the festival as well."

Now it made sense. Peter wanted Neal to protect him from Chloe. Even though she'd been behaving herself recently, Chloe had inadvertently caused an unfortunate outbreak of dorkyism. Peter had been one of the victims. "You two should have a great time. I know what you're trying to ask me, and I'm happy to manage the office in your absence. You'll need to inform Jones that I'm in charge, but I'm sure he'll bow to your discerning judgment." Neal flashed a smile at them, enjoying their looks of consternation.

Peter huffed. "Clearly that wasn't our intention." Then he played dirty. He gave him the full benefit of his soulful eye routine where he looked just like his Lab Satchmo. He knew Neal was a sucker for it.

"No?" Neal smacked his forehead. "Of course! Dog-sitting. No problem. June's pug Bugsy will be happy to have company."

Peter sighed. "We're taking Satchmo with us."

Travis looked at Peter. "You want me to be the one?"

"No, it was my idea. Neal, is there any way we could persuade you to help us with the camp?"

Neal feigned shock. "You must be joking. I'm no good with telescopes, and camps are most definitely not in my skill set."

"When Leavitt approached New Jersey Audubon about sharing their facilities, they agreed if we'd allow their kids to sign up for the sessions too. We now have over sixty kids registered." The overtone of panic in Travis's voice was a nice touch. "Our kids we can manage, but these newbies don't know anything about astronomy."

"That's what makes you ideal," Peter added. "At the telescope workshops the youngest age is nine. But the nature camp includes kids as young as seven. I don't relate to seven year olds."

"Neither do I," said Travis, looking more desperate by the moment. "We tried to talk Leavitt out of it, but he was getting pressured by the parents of some of our workshop kids. They want to send the younger siblings along."

"Leavitt, the traitor, agreed," Peter said gloomily. "Then he had the effrontery to call this morning to say he won't be able to lead the camp. His wife prematurely gave birth to twins. They already have a two year old at home. Even I have to give him a pass."

"But I can't take Leavitt's place," Neal protested.

"We understand that," Peter said hurriedly, "but Travis and I can manage the older kids if you and Mozzie take care of the younger ones."

"Jones signed up his nephew Ethan," Travis added. "You and Ethan are friends. Wouldn't you like to be there for his first camp experience?"

"I sympathize with your situation, honestly, but sacrifice three days of vacation for a forest? You can't be serious. Me in a tent? Get real, guys."

"You wouldn't sleep in a tent," Peter quickly assured him. "The state forest has an observatory on site."

"It's a magnificent facility," Travis added. "The main building has classrooms and a library. Upstairs there's a full kitchen, bathroom, and a bunk room which sleeps ten."

Neal turned to Peter. "Is that where you and El will be staying?"

Peter looked embarrassed as he admitted they weren't. "We're booked at a country inn in Hope. This is payback for El missing out on the trips to Buttonwood and Simsbury. I called this morning to see if there was any vacancy for you, but they're sold out. Between the craft fair and the festival, all the motels are full. I checked every place I could find for miles around."

"Where are Mozzie and Janet staying? In the bunk room?"

"Absolutely not," Travis said, looking horrified. "They'll stay in the office next door. They're bringing sleeping bags to use."

Neal grinned. "How's the soundproofing? Have you tested it?"

Travis looked nervous. "We could always move them downstairs. Janet's offered to cook. Did I mention the full kitchen and bathroom? Indoor plumbing? Hot and cold water?"

Travis and Peter continued to work on Neal on the walk back to the Bureau. Peter urged Neal to consider it an artist retreat. He'd have plenty of time to paint since his afternoons would be free. The idea had some appeal. Mozzie had his Thoreau moments of communing with nature. Neal had never spent much time painting outdoors. Travis, sensing an opening, extolled the beauty of the forest. It was painful to hear him struggle to dredge up art expressions. Had Richard taught him nothing?

Peter chimed in about the aesthetic delights of the location. Neal could be like Monet, setting up his easel and painting fields of flowers.

When they got off the elevator on their floor, all thoughts of astronomy camp were swept aside. White Collar had been invaded by none other than that notorious pirate Jack Sparrow. When Neal entered the bullpen, a blue foam sword danced in front of his eyes.

"Give me your treasure!" The pint-sized pirate demanded.

Agent Clinton Jones came charging down the stairs from the conference room. "Ethan, stop that! You were supposed to be eating your snack in the breakroom, not terrorizing the bullpen."

Neal waved him back. "Captain Jack and I go back a long ways." Turning to his arch-nemesis, he lowered his voice to a growl. "You'll have to fight me for my gold!"

"Sorry, Peter," Jones said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Ethan's school is off today and my sister had to work. I offered to take care of him. I didn't realize how much mischief a seven-year old could get into."

"You call this mischief?" Neal cast a pitying glance at him. "You have no idea." Neal and Ethan were old friends. Jones had brought him to one of Neal's fencing competitions at Columbia last fall because the little boy was entranced with swords. Afterward, Jones signed up Ethan for fencing lessons as a Christmas present.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Peter said, "and as second-in-command, if you feel the need to have a pirate in the bullpen, be my guest."

"I hope Hughes feels the same way." Jones glanced nervously at the agent-in-charge's office. Neal could see Hughes through the glass wall. He was working at his computer with his back to the high seas drama playing out in the bullpen. Too bad. Hughes could use with a little lighthearted relief. He'd been far too grouchy this morning.

Peter crouched down in front of Ethan. "Is this the sword Neal gave you at Columbia?"

Ethan nodded proudly. "It's my favorite."

"I had to buy three extras already," Jones added. "He's pretty hard on them."

"Can I take it to astro camp?" Ethan pleaded. The kid had great puppy-dog eyes. Better even than Peter's. How could Peter turn him down? But before Peter could answer, Ethan turned to Neal and wrapped himself around his leg. "You're going too, aren't you? Can we fence?"

"Sorry, Ethan, but Travis and Peter have so many other fun activities planned, there won't be time."

"On the contrary," Travis said. "The kids will need a break from learning about stars. I think it's an excellent idea to hold a mini-fencing camp while we're there." He turned to Peter and raised a brow in a dead ringer for Spock. "Don't you?"

"Jeez, I hadn't thought about it, but that could work out very well." He patted Ethan on the shoulder.

"Yay! Neal's coming too!" The mini-pirate began performing a victory dance.

Neal scanned the three of them. Jones, Travis, and Peter were all looking at him with identical smug expressions. Would they have stooped so low as to rope Ethan into their scheme? "Masterfully played. I can tell when I've been out-conned."

Neal grabbed Ethan by the shoulder as he started to dart away. "My sword's in the locker room. Let's fence there. We'll have more space, and the gore won't get on their files."

"Since when do you keep a sword in the locker room?" Peter demanded.

Neal blinked innocently. "Since there've been pirates, of course."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

When Peter saw Neal approach the door of his office, he saved the document he was working on and beckoned him in.

Neal stepped inside. "You asked me to stop by after our fencing bout. Is this a good time?"

"Sure. Take a seat. I assume our pirate is no longer marauding through the hallways?"

"He's escaped to Monkey Island."

Peter thought a moment. Was this the new term for the lab? Sometimes he'd called Neal White Collar's spider monkey. Had he renamed his art niche? Or did he have plans for the bullpen? "And that is . . .?"

"Video game about pirates that Jones brought along. 'Nuf said."

"Ah yes. We may need to borrow that for camp."

"Aren't there astronomy video games?"

"Travis is researching them. I freely admit I feel hopelessly out of my league. Our telescope workshops at Columbia only last an hour. Now we'll be responsible for morning and evening activities. Leavitt's wife having twins is suspiciously convenient."

Neal gave him a skeptical look. "That's right, Peter. Leavitt got his wife pregnant with the sole purpose of avoiding astro camp."

"It's a working theory." He cleared his throat. "But, joking aside, I don't want you to feel obligated to use part of your vacation for the mess I got myself in. I understand if you'd rather not."

Neal shrugged. "Since Paris morphed into a business trip, I saved a few days. Originally I planned to use them on a return trip to visit Fiona. That's a non-starter now, so I might as well help out."

Peter eyed him with sympathy. Neal's girlfriend had dumped him two weeks ago. He knew it still rankled.

"Father's Day is the day before camp starts, and I've been trying to think of a good idea," Neal added. "Last year we did dinner and a baseball game. If my surrogate dad who puts up with all the crazy stuff I fling at him throughout the year wants to spend a few days herding kids around, how can I refuse?"

Peter broke into a smile. Neal knew how to hit it out of the ballpark. "El will be thrilled. We'll drive there Sunday afternoon." This had the makings of the best Father's Day ever.

 **Elysian Bookstore, New Haven, Connecticut. June 17, 2005. Friday afternoon.**

Maia opened the door to the Elysian Bookstore. Located only a few blocks from her classes at Yale, it was an easy walk. The shop had been transformed by her sister into the most elegant bookstore in Connecticut. Its selection of art books was the best in the country. Poetry readings, book signings, author soirées . . . Electra could be justifiably proud of her accomplishment.

Maia strolled through the aisles, looking for her sister. She found her in the occult section, talking with Wisteria Brigham. Wisteria was the head of New Haven's Wiccan coven, the Alyssum Sisterhood. A large flowery woman who enjoyed dressing in lavender, she'd become a devoted friend ever since Electra allowed the coven to use the reading room for their monthly meetings. Little did Wisteria suspect the service she was providing for Electra. As the number of Wiccans increased, so did Electra's power. How would Wisteria react if she knew her friend Electra was actually Astrena, Queen of the Stars?

Wisteria wrapped Electra in a hug. "We're overjoyed you've agreed to come to the Litha festival! When I heard New Jersey was chosen as the location, I was worried you wouldn't be able to make it."

 _Miss out on the opportunity to create a new generation of vampires?_ Maia chuckled to herself. If Wisteria only knew.

Electra gave her a warm smile. "I'm delighted we can lend our support. One of the antique stores has agreed to let us set up a display in their store. Unfortunately, we'll only be able to take along a small selection of books."

"Oh, but you _must_ bring all your books on witchcraft! And your grimoires, of course. They're indispensable. With the craft fair going on, this will be our best chance to educate and illuminate. Our members will be making presentations on both days of the festival."

After Maia greeted Wisteria, she stood aside. She listened to her sister make all the correct responses, giving the impression that Wisteria was her nearest and dearest friend. Electra was masterful. She knew how to touch all the right strings and play her like a lyre. Maia wished she were equally as skilled.

"Can you believe our good fortune in having Gemma Blackthorne join us?" Wisteria gushed.

"Who's she?" Maia asked innocently, pretending not to know anything about their sister.

Wisteria's eyes widened. "Simply the world's most knowledgeable expert on everything Wicca! My dear, she travels the world, promoting Wicca and helping covens get established. I heard her in England—so inspiring! I was mesmerized. Literally _mesmerized_. She teaches botany at Lydford College." Wisteria heaved a deeply felt sigh. "She kindled a flame within me which still burns bright. This will be the most spectacular Litha North America has ever seen!"

Wisteria continued to rhapsodize about Gemma for several more minutes. Once she left, Electra invited Maia into her office. Her assistant Penelope could handle the customers.

Electra's office was more like the luxurious suite of a CEO of a major corporation than that of a bookstore owner. Private restroom, wet bar, leather wingback chairs. Her exquisite taste in art was reflected in the paintings she'd chosen for the walls.

Electra's cat Daphne jumped on Maia's lap as soon as she took a seat. The lilac-point Siamese purred loudly, placing her paws on Maia's shoulders. She'd been with Electra for two years now. She lived in the bookstore, and store customers were enchanted with her. She occasionally graced a lucky customer by sitting in their lap when they were sitting in one of the reading nooks.

Electra reached into the mini fridge of the bar for a bottle of blood discretely concealed within a Bordeaux bottle. She took two Waterford wine glasses from the shelf and poured them each a glass. "To the anistemi."

Maia clinked glasses with her. "After all these months, I can't believe we're so close. Will Gemma drive down with us?"

"No, she'll go directly to Hope from JFK airport. I'm looking forward to our reunion. We have much to learn from her success with the Wiccan groups in the U.K."

"Samhain at Dartmoor was over seven months ago. This year we should persuade her to join us in the States."

"Gemma hasn't experienced an American Halloween in over a century. Yes, I think it's time." She paused and looked at her sister. "Your smile betrays you. Have you been visiting Sam again?"

Maia shrugged an acknowledgment. She expected Electra to be upset, but when she wasn't, Maia couldn't resist sharing her news. "Sam's not far from the Litha festival. I may be able to meet him!"

Electra gazed at her with amusement. "And how did you discover that? It wouldn't have anything to do with the Greek horned orchids I found growing in our garden yesterday?"

"I may have made a locator potion," she admitted. "Last night he was in a small town in New Jersey called Newton. That's not far from the festival. I could run into him on the street or at the festival. Perhaps he'll visit our display."

Electra arched one of her elegantly shaped eyebrows. "You realize you're acting like a teenager with a crush?"

"I know! Why should they have all the fun? Visiting Sam in his dreams isn't enough. I crave physical contact."

"Will you be able to control your desire? Sam's a hunter. He'll be alert to any magic you try on him."

"Exactly. That element of danger is what adds to his appeal. When we visit artists in their dreams, feeding off their creativity may provide us with the power we need, but it's not much of a challenge. I want more from this relationship. Not just the intellectual pleasure, but the physical."

"I can sympathize," Electra admitted. "I've had similar thoughts about Neal. Once we start the feeding process, inevitably their bodies will weaken. Should we not delay it to take all the pleasure we can first? Their ultimate capitulation will be that much more satisfying. But I detect a flaw in your plan. Simply because your chosen one is in the vicinity doesn't mean he'll attend the festival."

"In this case it does. I have a secret weapon—Chloe Bishop."

Electra took a sip of blood as she thought a moment. "Isn't she the child I met last month at the Wiccan meeting?"

"That's right. She's a member of the Alyssum Sisterhood."

Daphne jumped onto Electra's lap and purred into her ear. "Of course! I remember her now. She's writes urban fantasies under the pen name of Cecilia Hepburn. I read one of her novels. She's a minor talent but could be worth cultivating. Do you intend to feed off her?"

"I'd considered it," Maia admitted, "but wasn't convinced she was worth the bother. I decided to learn more about her first. It was easy enough to become friends. We've shopped, done lunch." Maia paused to take a sip. The blood was an inferior vintage. Barely satisfying. She consoled herself that once the pure-bloods arrived, they would have no shortage of blood to choose from. "I overhead her on the phone and coaxed her into telling me she was seeing someone. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be Sam's brother, Dean."

Electra chuckled. "How deliciously convenient for you."

"Chloe is attending the festival along with the rest of the sisterhood. I'm sure Dean will want to stay in the area so he can visit her. The brothers are so close, Sam is bound to come with him. I'll have no difficulty in persuading Chloe to introduce me." Maia stood up and refilled her sister's glass. "I was afraid you might be angry that I'd indulged."

"I can hardly be upset"—Electra dipped the tip of her index finger into the glass and licked the blood off it—"when I visited Neal in his dreams last night. He's acquainted with the Winchesters. Neal was captured with Sam by our vampires in Buttonwood. Last month Sam and Dean attempted to rescue Neal and his friend Peter in Connecticut. I wonder if there's any chance Neal will be at the festival as well. How inconvenient that we can't read their minds."

"Wasn't Gemma working on a potion?"

"Yes, but so far she's been unsuccessful. Until then we'll have to be content with projecting our dreams onto our chosen ones. That has served us well over the centuries." Electra set her glass down. From her expression, Maia could tell a lecture was coming. "You realize that no one must stand in the way of pure-bloods, not even your chosen one."

She nodded. "You have no need to be concerned. I intend to keep him far too busy to interfere."

 **Greenwood Observatory, Jenny Jump State Forest. June 19, 2005, Sunday afternoon.**

"This is the place," Peter announced, pulling up to a large two-story steel building.

Neal stared with curiosity at the structure. They'd spent the past hour driving through the wooded, rolling landscape of western New Jersey. The terrain had become mountainous as they approached the park. So far he hadn't seen the small town where Peter and El would be staying, but he would tonight. El had made dinner reservations for them at the inn to celebrate Father's Day.

The only observatory Neal had seen was on top of Pupin Hall at Columbia University. "Where's the dome? Aren't observatories supposed to have domes for telescopes?"

"You see that row of side buildings? They're the storage sheds for the telescopes. The main building houses the classrooms, radio room, office, and sleeping facilities."

"Impressive. This is much more elaborate than I would have expected."

Peter nodded proudly. "It's jointly run by all the astronomy clubs in New Jersey as well as the local colleges. There's even a maintenance shop on the premises."

"There's Travis's car," El said, pointing out his silver Saturn Ion. "And that SUV must belong to Janet. She said she was renting one for the week." Travis arrived at the observatory on Friday evening and had already offered Neal the use of his car. Travis planned to spend every available moment using the telescopes and had no intention of driving anywhere.

On Saturday, Janet and Mozzie had stopped by June's on the way to the forest and picked up Neal's bag and painting supplies. Neal knew Peter's car would be loaded. On the drive up, he and Satchmo had shared the back seat with camp supplies and craft materials.

Travis came out to greet them and help carry in their gear. Afterward, he showed off the radio room to Neal. Although it had originally been designed as a ham-radio room, it was now primarily used for radio astronomy. Neal understood very little about radio astronomy but had picked up from Mozzie and Travis that it was the main tool used by SETI in its search for extraterrestrial life. When he heard about the observatory having a radio room, he wondered if Travis and Mozzie would spend all their free time looking for little green men, something he planned to tease them about at every opportunity.

While Travis helped Peter unpack the camp supplies, El gave Neal a tour of the upstairs. Satchmo channeled his inner bloodhound and tagged along with them, sniffing in every nook and cranny.

"I feel like I should have brought a duffed bag instead of a suitcase," Neal admitted. "Weren't you supposed to sew nametags on my clothes?"

"You're right! It's been so long I forgot. When was the last time you attended camp?"

"I never went. This is a new experience."

"You didn't go to camp?"

El looked so distressed, Neal hastened to assure her it wasn't a big deal. And it wasn't. He remembered other kids had talked about the camps they'd attended over the summer. He'd hung out at the pool hall and the YMCA, spending his summers mastering pool. When he returned to school, everyone assumed he meant swimming, and he'd practiced that as well, but billiards turned out to be an even more useful skill.

Neal reached down to stroke Satchmo. "It's your first time, too, isn't it? We'll be newbies together."

"Are you sure you don't mind taking care of Satchmo?" El asked. "We could keep him with us at night."

"Sorry, but I've already claimed him as my bunkmate. He's also the official camp mascot and watchdog. Peter spent half the drive here lecturing me on bear etiquette and how to avoid bear encounters. Satchmo will be my defender."

"I think Peter was laying it on a little thick."

"I'm not so sure about that. Did you check out the bear pamphlet they gave us at the park entrance? From the sound of it, Jenny Jump is the nexus of black bear activity for the entire region."

"What's this about bears?" Peter questioned, coming up the stairs with Travis. "Use your common sense and if that fails, run like hell. That's all you need to know."

"I've yet to see a bear," Travis noted, "and I've been here for three days."

"That means nothing," Neal scoffed. "When you weren't staring through a telescope, you had your eyes glued to a computer monitor. A bear could have come up behind you and you wouldn't have noticed."

"But we'll eat well before we die," Travis countered. "Janet has already stocked the kitchen with supplies from the local farmers' markets."

"Is that wise? Is she simply fattening us up to be a bear feast? You know how Janet loves wildlife. If she had to choose between us and a bear, you realize who she'd pick."

Peter stroked his chin. "Is that why she likes Mozzie? She thinks he's an endangered species?"

"Be nice, Peter!" El admonished. "You'd be sunk without his help at camp." She turned to Travis. "Where are Mozzie and Janet?"

"They should be back soon. He's showing her a cave he discovered. They've spent the past couple of days exploring the park. This morning while she was off looking for butterflies, Mozzie found a cave which has . . ." Travis paused dramatically, giving a knowing nod.

"Don't tell me," Neal said with a groan. "Cave slime?"

Travis grinned. "What else? I haven't seen it yet, but I'm sure I will."

"In that case, we better take off before they return," Peter said. "There will be no talk of slime—alien, cave, or otherwise—on Father's Day." He invited Travis to join them for dinner, but Travis wanted to spend the evening wrapped around the telescopes.

After they left, Neal checked out the kitchen and was pleased to see Mozzie had brought along an extensive collection of wine for the occasion. Sleeping in a bunk bed would be a new experience. He and Satchmo tested the mattresses and found them acceptable. He would have chosen an upper bunk, but Satchmo insisted on a lower.

Unpacking was trivial. Neal had brought along one suit to wear to Father's Day dinner but the rest of the time he'd be wearing jeans and t-shirts.

Painting in the open air, bears, cave slime . . . Camp was sounding better and better. That raised the question if camps were like cons. No matter how much planning you made, something unexpected would inevitably come along to turn it into even more of an adventure. He was about to find out.

* * *

 _Notes: Thanks for reading! Next week in Chapter 2: Ghost Stories, Neal will realize his suspicions are correct, and Peter's Father's Day party takes a turn in the wrong direction. This story has 6 chapters which I'll post weekly on Wednesday._

 _If you're wondering just who Electra and Maia are, you'll learn much more about them in this story. I've also updated my blog post, _"The Twisted Sisters of Crossed Lines." The post reviews what we know about them so far.__

 _Jenny Jump State Forest is an actual park in western New Jersey, and the observatory is also real, although I've taken liberty with some of the details. Neal's first Father's Day with Peter was described in Chapter 2 of Caffrey Disclosure._

 _Hooray for Penna Nomen climbing into Peter's Taurus with me for the road trip! She's my expert navigator and beta wizard for this road trip. Penna wrote an April Fools post for our blog this week. Will there be any pranks in this story? Oh, maybe just a couple._

 _In the pre-series Caffrey Conversation AU created by Penna Nomen, FBI Special Agent Peter Burke recruited con artist and expert forger Neal Caffrey in 2003 when he was 24. In exchange for a confession, he was given immunity for past crimes and started working for the FBI as a consultant at the White Collar task force in New York City. Sam and Dean Winchester are demon-hunting brothers. Sam is roughly the same age as Neal. Dean is four years older than Sam. Peter is thirteen years older than Neal. For those familiar with the Supernatural timeline, the action is set early in the second season of Supernatural._

 ** _Blog_** _: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation_ _  
 **Chapter Visuals and Music** : The Fireflies at Midnight board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website_  
 _Pins are updated with each new chapter. This week's pins include the cast and locations.  
Links to both sites are in my profile._

 _Disclaimers: The worlds of_ _White Collar and Supernatural are not mine, alas._ _Any depictions of real institutions and locations are not necessarily true or accurate._


	2. Ghost Stories

**Chapter 2: Ghost Stories**

 **The Inn at Millrace Pond, Hope, NJ. June 19, 2005. Sunday Evening.**

After a long day's drive from Indiana, Sam and Dean arrived in Hope on Sunday evening. When they pulled up at the Inn at Millrace Pond, Chloe was waiting for them in the reception area. She told them she'd hoped they could eat in the dining room, but there were no free tables available. Instead, they headed for the inn's tavern.

Sam took one look inside the posh dining room and was glad they weren't eating there. The men were all in jackets and ties. He and Dean would have stuck out like sore thumbs in their jeans and boots.

"I'd checked with the hostess this afternoon and she warned me we'd be out of luck unless there was a last minute cancellation," said Chloe regretfully. "Between all the visitors in town for the festival and families celebrating Father's Day, we didn't stand a chance."

Father's Day was a topic Sam was trying to avoid. It wasn't that long ago their father had been killed. He was glad Dean channeled the conversation onto the festival instead.

Chloe sprang for the first round of beers. With free bowls of popcorn and burgers on the way, she wouldn't hear any complaints from them, but she still felt the need to apologize. "I'd hoped to reserve a room for Sam but struck out there too. Not only is the inn booked solid, but all the motels in the area are full as well."

Sam shrugged it off. "I'm using to sleeping in the Impala. That's what we generally do when we're on the road."

"You could camp out in our room?" Chloe offered hesitantly, slanting a glance at Dean.

Sam didn't need Dean's horrified stare to slam that suggestion down. "I'll be fine. Not having Dean's snores will be a welcome change."

"Dude, I don't snore," Dean protested. He turned to Chloe. "Do I?"

"I wouldn't call it snoring," she said, waffling. "Maybe little grunts. They're endearing."

Chloe was sitting next to Dean. They hadn't seen each other in a month, and it showed. Sam thought about flicking a popcorn kernel in Dean's direction but in the interest of true love decided to hold off. They'd eventually come up for air on their own.

"Mozzie and Janet arrived yesterday," Chloe said. "She and I spent the day exploring the state forest, and checking out trails for tomorrow's field trips. Mozzie was investigating some of the caves in the forest. I didn't realize there were so many." She paused, her brow furrowing. "Have you ever investigated slime?"

"What kind of slime?" Dean demanded. "Demonic? Werewolf-foaming-at-the-mouth?"

"Neither. Extraterrestrial. Mozzie believes space aliens used it to encode messages. He's been investigating the tunnels underneath Columbia University, and now thinks he's found evidence at Jenny Jump."

Dean grinned. "Neal mentioned in Buttonwood that was one of Mozzie's obsessions. This puts a new spin on it. Didn't _X-Files_ have something about alien residue?"

"Black oil is what you're thinking of," Sam said. "Thanks for the warning, Chloe. If we're slimed, we'll know who to call."

"Anytime," she said, chuckling. "You may see some other faces around town you recognize—Peter and Neal. Peter brought his wife Elizabeth along. I spotted them having dinner in the restaurant."

Sam took a swig of beer. "What are they doing here? Mozzie I can understand. He probably has delusions of becoming a warlock, but Neal and Peter? They don't fit the standard Wicca profile."

"Janet told me that Peter's leading an astronomy camp for kids in the park. Neal and Mozzie are helping out."

Dean passed the popcorn bowl to Chloe. "Peter looks like the sort of geek who'd be into that sort of thing. How'd he rope Neal in to help?"

"Janet said it's a Father's Day gift for Peter. Since Neal's dad is out of the picture, Peter's been filling in."

"What's the deal with Neal's dad?" Dean asked.

"I think they're estranged. Mozzie hasn't told Janet much. She suspects he deserted the family. The last time Neal saw his father was when he was three."

Sam remembered that Neal had given him a strange look when Sam mentioned hunting was in his blood. He didn't know if it was because of hunting or because Neal didn't like the idea of what was in his own blood. That would explain it.

"Did you find out anything more about what's supposed to be happening here?" Chloe asked.

"Bobby's still researching it," Dean said. "Have you heard of anything unusual?"

"No, but I'm amazed at how popular Wicca is. This bodes well for my upcoming novel. Wicca's trending on college campuses. My coven, the Alyssum Sisterhood, was formed at Yale. I think all the sisters are coming. I heard Wellesley also has a coven. They call themselves the Pompadours and will be here as well."

"Pompadours, huh. That's a weird name for a coven," Dean commented.

"I thought so too," Chloe said. "Supposedly they named themselves after a dessert that's popular at Wellesley."

"Sweet college chicks, dude." Dean nudged Sam. "Just your type."

Sam ignored him. Lately Dean had been on a campaign to hook him up with someone. The more Dean pushed, the more Sam resisted. It had become a game to see who would cave first.

"One of the main forces in Wicca, Gemma Blackthorne, is flying in from the U.K. She'll give a talk on Tuesday at noon and lead the bonfire ceremony that night. Many of the festival participants are camping in the park. We have events scheduled both Monday and Tuesday—nature walks, rites of passage, meditations"—she shrugged with a mischievous grin—"the usual pagan activities."

"What will happen at the bonfire ceremony?" Sam asked.

"There's a procession to light the bonfire. A few of the sisters have written poems. I heard some minstrels will be there. Prayers, songs, dances around the bonfire. Drinking and toasting will no doubt be prominently featured."

Dean made a face. "Witch wannabes dancing around a maypole. If it weren't for Bobby's warning, I'd get the hell out of here."

"Is that so?" Chloe gave Dean a sultry look that made Sam feel singed from the backdraft. "Litha is the Fire Festival. You mean to tell me, you wouldn't stay around to light my fire?"

"Do I need to throw water on you two?" Sam complained. "Put a lid on it till you get to your room. Before I leave, we should swing by the dining room to say hi to Peter and Neal."

Dean looked at him skeptically. "Yeah, right. 'Cause Peter will be so pleased to have us crash his Father's Day party."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

This had been a Father's Day to remember. Peter gazed around the table in contentment as the waitress cleared away their plates. Neal's toast had brought a lump to his throat. During dinner they'd reminisced about last year's celebration. No ties for this Father's Day, but Neal and El came prepared with matching constellation socks for the three of them. Neal even let Peter tease him that Ursa Minor, the baby bear constellation, was prominently displayed on the socks.

"The socks also have Perseus," Neal pointed out. "And as I'm sure you recall you told me Perseus was my constellation, not Ursa Minor. I gave the socks a pass, but there will be no talk of baby bears at astro camp."

Peter made a show of pondering the request. "I'm willing to concede it might destroy your position of leadership with the campers if they began calling you by the nickname your grandmother gave you. On the other hand, it could help you establish a rapport with the younger ones. It _bears_ further thought."

El's growls at that remark were added to Neal's. Peter had observed that ever since Neal's girlfriend had broken off their relationship, El's Mama Bear attributes had risen to the surface. "Just as I'm sure the campers would be highly entertained by you singing some of those memorable hits you sang in Buttonwood a couple of months ago," she countered pointedly, stifling any further thoughts of baby bear teasing. She turned to Neal. "Do you have a preference?"

"There were so many that Janet described in vivid detail, it's hard to pick a favorite. 'Rawhide' would be excellent, but no, I think 'Happy Trails' is perfect for the last night of camp."

As Peter joined in the banter, he was relieved that the supernatural events which had occurred during that weekend could merely be the subject of teasing. For a month he'd heard nothing about vampires, witches, or any demons. Although there had been no reports of the escaped fugitive Curtis Hagen, he had reconciled himself to that being a good thing. According to the Winchesters, Hagen was now possessed by the demon Crowley and beyond the power of the Bureau to bring to justice.

Neal and El had spent much of the drive dreaming up activities for the younger kids. With plenty of help for camp and no demons to worry about, this was one vacation he expected to enjoy.

"Mozzie showed me the cave he found," Neal said. "It's not far from the observatory. The entrance is hidden by dense undergrowth and I can see why he was excited. It made me think of a pirates' cave."

"I've heard there are several small caves in the forest," El said, handing Peter the dessert menu. "Did you see the slime?"

Neal nodded. "Not impressive. It didn't look like alien drool to me. The cave itself goes back about twenty feet. It even has some pocket crevices which could be used to store pirate's loot." He turned to Peter. "Good bear potential."

"Or snakes," Peter added.

El shot him a quick glance. "Snakes?"

"Timber rattlesnakes can be found in the park. They use caves as hibernation dens, but they probably won't be found there in the summer. In any case, they're quite rare now. I doubt you'll see any rattlesnakes but there are also many harmless snakes in the forest."

"Bears, snakes . . . No camp should be without them," Neal said with a smile. He glanced around the room and his smile broadened. "And that may not be all."

What was he talking about? Peter turned his head to see what had caught Neal's eye and his heart dropped to the floor. Not them. Not this week. Hadn't he just been thinking how lucky he was? He let out a low groan. Weren't sixty-five kids enough of a curse for anyone?

El placed a hand on his arm. "What is it, hon?"

"Dean and Sam Winchester are here with their friend, Chloe."

"Their presence is no reason to panic," Neal admonished, standing up to wave them over. "Don't assume vampires and witches are lurking in the bushes. You'd mentioned Chloe was attending the festival. They probably dropped in to visit her."

El reacted with enthusiasm. "You mean I'll finally be able to meet the famous Winchesters? I can thank them personally for saving both your lives." Peter had reluctantly told her about their ordeal in the witch-house in Connecticut. It had required Neal's help to convince her he wasn't making it up, but afterward it had an unexpected benefit. El no longer stressed as much about their run-of-the-mill criminals. She'd declared as long the bad guys weren't witches or vampires, she'd take them all in stride.

Dean and Sam didn't seem particularly anxious to hang around either, but after a round of introductions, El insisted they join them for dessert.

"We shouldn't intrude on your celebration," Sam objected, earning Peter's gratitude.

"Nonsense," Neal said. "I'm told the inn's peach pie is outstanding."

Dean began to waver and when El mentioned the homemade ice cream that came with it, he was the first one to agree. When the waitress brought extra chairs over, Peter made sure Dean sat next to him. The kid was a smartass, but he didn't beat around the bush. He'd be the one most likely to give him a straight answer. Peter held off the interrogation for the first few minutes. El was clearly delighted to meet the people she'd heard so much about. When she engaged Chloe in a conversation about her novels, Peter seized the opportunity.

"Vampires or witches?" he asked in an undertone, leaning close to Dean to not be overheard. "How bad is it?"

Dean tried to shrug it off. "Hey, can't a fellow just visit his girl?"

"You don't fool me for a minute."

"What are you two whispering about?" El asked, giving him a reproachful look. "Anything you want to discuss, the entire table should hear." She turned to Sam. "Are you hunting?" Sam glanced nervously at Neal, obviously looking for help, but before he could say anything, El added, "Chloe agrees with me. No secrets." She crossed her arms. "Who wants to start? Something tells me you're not in town to take part in wildflower field trips."

 _Well put, hon,_ Peter had to acknowledge. _That was just what I was going to say._

"We don't know ourselves." Peter could feel the worry lines form on his forehead at Sam's words. "A friend alerted us that something might be happening at a Litha festival in the Northeast. He's heard a term—anistemi—but he doesn't know what it means. We asked Chloe to check around and this is the only Litha festival in the region."

"You must know something," Peter objected.

Dean swallowed a bite of peach pie and set down his fork. "Yeah, we do. You asked which it was, and it's vampires. The report came from a vamp and supposedly they're on the move in this direction."

"Should we call off camp?" Peter explained why there were there. "The kids are staying at the Boy Scout facility outside of Hope and will be bused in for the events. I'm not so concerned about the workshops. They'll be held in the morning, but we have evening stargazing scheduled Monday through Wednesday. And it's not just the kids we have to worry about. This is the park's peak season. All the campsites are booked as well. Should we shut it down?"

Dean made an impatient gesture. "We're talking vamps, not zombies. I've never heard of marauding hordes of vamps making mass attacks. That's not their style."

"Vampires hunt in small groups," Sam clarified. "They prize their secrecy. They might target one person in a lonely campsite just like they'd attack a woman walking alone in a dark alleyway, but groups should be fine. And the information is so sketchy, I don't see how you could close the park over it. The festival activities are being held both in town and in the park. If vampires are planning something, it could be at either location. It's simply not practical to close down the entire town over what may only be a rumor."

"We're working with our contacts to find out more about this anistemi," Dean added, "and we'll keep you informed. Are you staying at the inn?"

"El and I are. Neal's bunking in the observatory. Are you staying at the motel on the outskirts of town?"

"I tried there," Chloe said, "but it's booked. Dean's staying with me, but I'd like to find a place for Sam."

Sam shook his head. "Not necessary—"

"—I know of a place," Neal interrupted. "Free. Good food, fridge stocked with beer, indoor plumbing."

Sam eyed him warily. "What's the catch?"

"You're staying here a few days. You can't be hunting all the time. You'd probably like a chance to take a break and play some games with the kids."

"That's a great idea," Peter seconded. "We could use with the help in the mornings. Only a half-hour or so?"

Sam shrugged. "A half-hour? If something doesn't come up, we should be able to manage that. Right, Dean?"

"You gotta be kidding. Kids and me, we don't mix. Sam knows that."

"Actually, you're quite good," he said cheerfully, ignoring the dagger looks Dean was throwing him.

Dean continued to object, and Peter figured their chances were nil until Neal played his trump card. "I'll be teaching them about knives."

Suddenly Dean was more intrigued. "Machetes?" he asked hopefully.

"Close. Sabres."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

"I can't remember that we ever slept in a four-poster bed before." El plumped the pillows behind her. "We need to take a vacation more often."

Peter perused the list of movies available on TV, attempting to decide which one El would be interested in. "How about _American Wedding_?" It wasn't his kind of movie, but this was supposed to be a vacation for her too, despite the camp . . . and now the vampires. Peter consoled himself there had been no mention of witches, but how long would that last?

El leaned over to scan the schedule. She was wearing a black lace peignoir that Peter hadn't seen before. Any movie watching would need several interruptions. " _Ocean's Twelve_ is on. Let's watch that."

"A heist movie? You and Neal aren't planning anything I hope?"

"Could be fun," she said with a mischievous smile. "This movie has strong roles for women. Julia Roberts and Catherine Zeta-Jones are two of my favorite actresses. They'll serve as excellent reminders for you. I detected a strong urge on your part to exclude me from the discussion with the Winchesters."

Peter winced. "Guilty as charged."

"If Dean and Sam are involved, it can't be an FBI case, so there should be no issue about including me. If Chloe can handle it, so can I."

"Tough girl are you?" He wrapped an arm around her. "I promise. Any vampires or witches I hear about, I'll let you know."

"Good," she said, snuggling next to him. "I'm glad Sam agreed to bunk at the observatory. Neal will have a great time with both him and Travis for company."

"Now that you've met them, what do you think of the brothers?"

"Based on your description, I expected them to be wild men. Instead they were quite polite. I could detect no signs of the insanity you'd mentioned. Dean doesn't look much like the man I saw in those photos of Buttonwood."

Peter groaned. "You don't really want to bring those up again, do you?"

She laughed. "I expect Dean is as embarrassed as you are. Mozzie, on the other hand, probably wears his period of curse-instigated dorkyness as a badge of honor. Do you know anything about Dean and Sam's family?"

"I investigated them thoroughly during that regrettable first encounter in New Jersey. Their mother passed away when Sam was less than a year old."

Her expression turned serious. "I'm so sorry. Dean couldn't have been much older than a toddler. Their childhood must have been difficult."

He nodded. "Their father, John, didn't make it easy for them. He died last year. The Bureau file on him reads like those of his sons. He was suspected of numerous crimes and arrested on several occasions, but was never convicted of anything. I asked Dean about John. He was also a hunter. Dean had to step in to take care of Sam even though he's only four years older. Their father trained both of them to be hunters. It's the only life Dean's ever known."

"I noticed them walk into the room before I knew who they were and thought they looked ill at ease. I wonder how much of it was because of Father's Day. It can't be an easy holiday for them." El rested her head on Peter's shoulder. "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if Neal's dad had fled with Neal when he was accused of murder?"

"If Neal had grown up with a cop killer?" Peter shook his head. "I can't see it. He probably would have run away at an even earlier age and fallen in with the wrong kind of people. I don't want to think what his life would have been like."

"Then we won't. Did you enjoy Father's Day?"

He put an arm around her. "Talking with my dad this morning, spending the day with you and Neal? It's been great, and if I have my way, it will finish even better."

She stroked his ear with her finger. "That's a promise."

"But as for me being a dad, that doesn't sound right. Look at the two rascals I wound up being a father figure to. I'm too old to be Satchmo's dad and too young to be Neal's. Although, I must confess sometimes the two seem a lot alike."

"Then you don't want to take on Dean and Sam, too?"

He leaned back to stare at her. "You're teasing, right?"

She shrugged. "Now that Neal's turned out so well, I thought you might be looking for another challenge." She broke into a laugh, tapping his nose. "Of course, I'm teasing."

"That's a relief. You shouldn't worry about Dean and Sam. They've got a friend named Bobby who acts a little like a surrogate dad. I've never met him. Probably just as well. I don't know his last name, but the file on him is undoubtedly at least as extensive as Dean and Sam's."

"Still, you better watch yourself. I've noticed how young rogues are attracted to you. It must be because they realize what a great Papa Bear you make."

"Is that so, Mama Bear?" He reached for the remote and turned off the TV. The movie could wait.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Dean pulled up in front of the observatory and turned off the ignition. "Can you believe the look on Peter's face when we walked into the dining room?" He broke into a laugh. "Man, that was sweet. He was scanning every corner of the room for vamps."

"We shouldn't have intruded on their dinner," Sam said, wincing. "They didn't need to have their Father's Day dinner spoiled with talk of vampires."

"I bet we were the highlight of their evening," he scoffed, dismissing Sammy's concern. "They're probably still talking about us. And the pie was heaven."

Dean spent a moment studying the observatory. As opposed to sleeping in a car, it looked like a palace. Not that it compared with what Dean had to look forward to. After dropping Sam off, he'd go back to Chloe and her four-poster bed. Would Sam even have TV? Dean could rationalize his way out of feeling guilty by thinking that some alone time was just what Sam needed. It would encourage him to go trolling for some of those college chicks Chloe had mentioned. Ever since his girlfriend's death, Sam had been acting like a monk, well, a warrior monk. That needed to change.

"I was surprised you didn't protest more at helping out at camp," Sam said, folding up the map. "What gives?"

"I figure we owe them. Mozzie's been providing us with fake IDs, and I suspect at least some of them are Neal's handiwork although he's always denied it. Besides, I gotta visit my kid brother in camp, don't I? Who would have thought? After all these years, you're finally getting to go."

Sammy didn't snap back with a quip of his own, but slouched deeper in his seat, brooding about something. _Here we go again_ , Dean thought with a sigh. Sam had the knack of making him feel guilty without knowing what the hell he'd done. "You all right?"

"Yeah, just . . ." He shrugged. "Forget it."

"No, go ahead and lay it on me. It's not staying here, is it? You know if you get homesick, you can give me a call and I'll pick you up."

Sam withered him with a glance and reached for the door handle. "I'm outta here."

"Hey, sit back down. Seriously, what is it? You've been moping during the entire drive out here."

"It's Father's Day," he admitted. "I was trying not to let it get to me, but talking with Peter and Neal . . . ." His words trailed off as he relapsed into silence.

"Yeah, right." Dean kicked himself for not having picked up on it earlier. Sam and John's relationship had been a tough one over the years. Sam had rebelled on more than one occasion against the lifestyle they were forced to lead. The gigantic fight Sam had with their dad before he left for Stanford had left scars on all of them. It had only been shortly before John's death that they reconciled. Afterward Sam had taken on an eighteen-wheeler's load of guilt and he'd been lugging it around ever since.

Sam stared moodily out the side window. "It's not like we celebrated many Father's Days with him." He stopped to consider. "Did we celebrate any?"

"Sure," Dean said automatically. "We must have."

"Name one."

Dean racked his brain. Damn. Was Sam right?

"I can remember lots of Father's Days wishing he were around so we could do something. Maybe give him a tie."

"Get real, dude. When did Dad ever wear a tie? Even when he impersonated an FBI agent, the only concession he made was to put a jacket on."

"I'm not trying to heap on him," Sam protested. "I miss him. Despite all the fights we had, I always knew in the back of my mind he was there for us. And now he's not."

"At least we had a dad when we were growing up. So what if most of the time he was off fighting demons, werewolves, or whatever crap was tossed his way? From what Chloe said, Neal didn't even have that."

"Yeah, and Bobby was there for us when Dad wasn't." Sam turned to look at him. "When I was little, I think I saw more of him than Dad."

Dean chuckled. "We used to play catch. He taught me how to fish. Now he's the only one left."

"We should give him a call," Sam declared. "It's Father's Day. We should thank him."

Dean stared at him. Was he serious? He had that stubborn expression on his face Dean knew all too well. He'd never told his brother, but it was the spitting image of the way their dad looked when he dug in his heels.

Maybe Sammy was right. It might help him cope. "All right. Let's do it."

Sam pulled out his cell phone. When Bobby answered, he put the phone on speaker and nodded to Dean to say something.

"Well, we're just sitting around, and it's Father's Day, and. . . ."

When his words trailed off, Sam jumped in. "And we wanted to wish you a Happy Father's Day."

 _"Balls. Which one of you idjits is dying? Or did you both catch the plague?"_

"We're fine, honest," Sam blurted out, looking flustered.

 _"You're not possessed?"_

Dean jumped in to salvage the situation. "No, we're good." He glared at Sam. They never called unless they were in trouble. Sam should have known this would be Bobby's reaction. "We just wanted to say thanks for . . . you know." Damn this was awkward.

 _"Well, come have a beer with me."_

"South Dakota's a little far," Dean pointed out mildly, stating the obvious.

 _"I ain't in South Dakota anymore. The Northeast has turned into such a hotbed, I figured I might as well join you two knuckleheads and keep you out of trouble. Rufus has a place in Morristown. It's about an hour away from where you are. I arrived here yesterday. Prime location next to a junkyard. You should come by tomorrow. I'll try to make it worth the trip."_

When Bobby issued an invitation, it could only mean one thing. Dean glanced over at Sam and smiled. For a present, cornering a demon beat a necktie hands down.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Sam got out of the car and grabbed his bag from the back seat. He wasn't surprised when Dean offered to come in with him. Claiming he was curious about the layout was just an excuse. Dean had never gone to camp either.

Not that Dean ever expressed a desire to go. Not like he had. That and wanting a dog. He gave up on the dog when Dean gave him a plastic model he'd stolen for him. Camp was a dream Sam knew could never be fulfilled. He rarely attended the same school two years in a row. Summers they spent on the road in a never-ending round of motel rooms.

But now, years later, he was going to camp. He chuckled inwardly. Would a dog be in his future too?

The door opened onto a large meeting room. Neal, Mozzie, and Janet were sprawled in chairs along with a tall guy about Dean's age. That must be Travis.

They jumped up to meet them, Janet giving both Dean and him an effusive hug and kiss. Had she designated herself as den mother to the group?

Sam noticed Mozzie slip something—probably the fake IDs—into Dean's pocket during the flurry of introductions.

A yellow Lab bounded over to meet Sam and nuzzled his knee. "This is Satchmo," Neal explained as Sam stroked him. "Peter and El loaned him to us. He's our camp mascot for the duration." Astro camp was improving by the minute.

Neal had filled the others in about the vampire gathering, but they pressed for details. Mozzie had never heard of an anistemi but promised to research the term. From the way he and Neal talked, Mozzie was as much a research-hound as Bobby.

Sam was impressed by Travis. He was taking the news very calmly for somebody who'd supposedly never been around demons. Or had he? He had a quiet, serious attitude that served to mask his own thoughts of the subject.

Mozzie, on the other hand, was the opposite. He seemed to be on a permanent high. "An anistemi may have something to do with a discovery I made. I've been exploring the caves in the forest and have stumbled upon a surprisingly rich deposit of cave slime. Unfortunately I didn't bring along my testing equipment but I've collected samples."

"What are you suggesting?" Dean asked skeptically. "That vampires are interested in drool?"

Mozzie shook his head vehemently. "Of course not. Do you think I'm an idiot?" When Dean started to speak, he rushed to continue. "The deposits may indicate extraterrestrials. I've long been a proponent of an off-world origin for vampires. This cave could be their portal."

"Let's save the cave for another time," Neal suggested diplomatically. When Mozzie grumbled, he added, "You've been studying the Columbia tunnel residue for months but haven't found any substantiating evidence."

"That's irrelevant. My work with SETI is just beginning to bear fruit."

Frowning a little, Dean asked, "You're with the folks searching for extraterrestrial life?" Sam knew what he was thinking. Would they be deluged by phony reports of crop circles?

"We both are," Travis clarified. "We're on the working committee at Columbia University."

"Do you support Mozzie's views?" Sam asked. Travis had a lot of gravitas about him. If he felt aliens created the slime, there might be something to Mozzie's theory, after all.

Travis hesitated. "The evidence to date is inconclusive."

Dean grinned as he stood up. "Have fun at camp, Sammy. I'm heading out. See ya in the morning."

After Dean left, the group took Sam on a tour of the place. He was pleasantly surprised at how well stocked the fridge was. There was a microwave and even a stove. The office which Mozzie and Janet had appropriated was at the far end of the bunk room, something Neal appeared to feel was particularly advantageous. Satchmo trotted along for the tour. After the initial obligatory hand-sniffing and praise, he'd welcomed Sam into the pal zone.

"Satchmo can tell you like him," Neal commented. "Did you ever own a dog?"

"Once, briefly." Sam didn't go into the details with Neal as he stroked the Lab. It was a subject best forgotten. He'd adopted Bones when he ran away as a teen. For two weeks, he and Bones lived on junk food till Dean found them. Bones was put in a shelter. Although Sam no longer had a dog, he still mainly survived on junk food. Life sucked sometimes. "Did you?"

"No. I wanted one but it didn't work out." Raising his voice, he asked, "Who's been to camp before?" Only Janet and Travis replied in the affirmative. "Then you know what we're supposed to do. Sing around the campfire? Roast marshmallows?"

"Ghost stories," Travis said promptly. "It wouldn't be camp without a few chills in the night."

"I can't wait to hear Sam's tales," Janet said, nudging her turquoise-rimmed glasses higher on her nose. "He's probably encountered real ones." The others looked at him eagerly but Sam had no intention of talking about the terrifying ghosts he and Dean had faced. They might not ever get to sleep.

"Have you heard of the Jenny Jump ghost?" Travis asked.

"No, but I need to," Neal said, his face lighting up at the thought. Neal was a little older than Sam, but he still seemed like a kid. It was probably because he hadn't seen the demons Sam had. When you're a hunter you have to grow up fast.

Mozzie insisted they make themselves comfortable first. "You can't tell ghost stories while standing under bright lights," he scolded. "We'd be insulting any latent apparitions. Ambiance, people!" He got out a small LED lantern for illumination before turning off the lights. The lantern had been designed for astronomy use and had a red filter.

Travis got beers for himself and Sam. Mozzie, Janet, and Neal helped themselves to glasses of wine. Everyone sprawled on the lower bunk beds, propping up pillows to recline on. Sam called Satchmo over to sit next to him.

Travis placed the red lantern in front of him. "In the 1700s, a little girl named Jenny lived with her father in what's now the park. Once she and her father were collecting berries on a steep hillside. She'd climbed up high above him. An Indian sprang out from the bushes and began chasing her. Jenny ran to a rock ledge and screamed to her father below to come save her. He knew he couldn't reach her in time and shouted, 'Jump, Jenny, jump!' He thought he'd be able to catch her."

"But he didn't," Janet prompted

He shook his head. "She jumped, but her father tripped on a rock and couldn't get to her in time. Afterward, the forest was named in her honor. Park visitors occasionally report having seen a young girl in pioneer clothes wandering in the forest."

Janet turned to face Sam. "Could there actually be a ghost?"

He shrugged. "It's possible. Have there been any reports of her causing people to jump off rock ledges?"

"Not to my knowledge," Travis said.

"Then I think you're safe. But I have a question for you. What's the story behind the road than runs parallel to the park—Shades of Death Road?"

"Ah, that's an interesting case," Mozzie said. He took the red lantern from Travis and held it close to his face. It caused the shadows from his glasses to look like satanic eyebrows. His entire face glowed red. It made Sam wonder for a brief second if Mozzie could have any demonic blood in him. He _was_ rather strange.

"There are many theories, none of them proven," Mozzie continued. "Some talk of highwaymen. Others of murders. At night the road is dangerous. Its twists and turns can quickly become deadly for the incautious driver. There have been fatalities. Are supernatural forces are work? Now that the experts are here, I look forward to their findings."

"And then there's Ghost Lake," Neal added, taking the lantern from Mozzie. "Peter was telling me about it on the way up. It acquired its name from the wraithlike mists that rise up from its surface. Visitors have claimed to see ghosts of murder victims in the woods surrounding the lake. They believe the ghosts live in the lake during the day. No reports of any nocnitsas . . . yet."

"Or will-o'-wisps," Janet added. "Believe me, I checked when I arrived. I also warned Chloe not to practice any of her spells on the shores of the lake."

Neal let out a low moan. "She's not still dabbling in the occult, is she?"

"She's collecting spells for her novel," Janet admitted, "but she told me she'd promised Dean not to try any of them out. Lately she's more into potions."

Sam didn't say anything but wondered if Dean knew about it. Potions could be every bit as dangerous as spells.

"I find potions a fascinating subject," Mozzie confessed. "If my slime research didn't take up so much of my time, I'd—"

"No you wouldn't," Neal argued, quickly jumping in. "You agreed not to experiment with drugs any more, remember?"

"No, I didn't. In the cause of science I can guarantee no such restrictions. Besides, potions don't really count."

Travis interjected. "Mozzie's teasing. He's well aware that the rules of our SETI committee are very strict. No experimentation with drugs or potions. We have enough problems about not being taken seriously."

"Your turn," Neal said, handing the lantern to Sam. "I'd like a story with a demon."

The demons they met were all worse than nightmares. Sam's initial inclination was to refuse. But it was camp, and they were all looking at him expectantly. "Have you ever heard of a wendigo?"

Mozzie's eyes widened. "No, but it sounds scary. Please continue."

Sam placed the lantern in front of him and Satchmo. In a low voice he said, "The ghastly tale began when a person disappeared from a camping trip. . . ."

* * *

 ** _Notes_** _: A wendigo is an evil spirit in Algonquian folklore. Dean and Sam encountered one in the canon episode "Wendigo" (Season 1, Episode 2). The will-o'-wisps and nocnitsa (a swamp spirit) are references to the events in Buttonwood, NJ, which were described in Whispers in the Night. Peter said Perseus was Neal's constellation in Chapter 24 of The Woman in Blue during Neal's first stargazing session._

 _The cave Mozzie shows Neal was inspired by Fairy Cave, an actual cave at the park._ _The tales about the ghost Jenny, Shades of Death Road, and Ghost Lake are real as well. I found a video about the park's spooky locations and have pinned it to the Fireflies at Midnight Pinterest board. The Inn at Millrace Pond is a charming hotel in Hope which I'd love to visit. There are also pins of it._

 _In Chapter 3: Mixed Signals, which will be posted next Wednesday, Neal and Peter hear about something heading their way that may shove worries about vampires on the back burner.  
_

 _That I'm posting a Father's Day chapter in April seems appropriate, given that this is a non-traditional celebration for a couple of surrogate dads. I've written about the role Peter and Bobby play in their surrogate sons' lives in my latest blog post, "Fathers and Sons." I've also added links to several other posts we've written on the dynamic between Neal and Peter._

 _Many thanks to Penna for taking time out from writing a Discworld story to help edit this chapter. She's had fun with ghost stories in two of her Vignettes: Spring Break and April Fool. Ghosts are a sensitive subject to Neal's cousin Henry, and he's not alone. A member of the White Collar team is sympathetic to his cautious attitude. That comes out in the next Caffrey Conversation story, Nocturne in Black and Gold._


	3. Mixed Signals

**Chapter 3: Mixed Signals**

 **Jenny Jump State Forest. June 20, 2005. Monday morning.**

Neal had no difficulty in falling asleep despite the ghost stories Sam told. The one about someone called Bloody Mary was particularly incredible. Neal hadn't considered spooks and spirits could be real until he met the Winchesters. He wondered if his world seemed equally alien to them.

He was having breakfast when Peter arrived at seven the next morning. Peter was already in a state of high anxiety about the incoming horde of campers. They were due to be bused in at nine. Peter grabbed Travis and Mozzie to discuss the schedule for the morning while Neal and Sam took a walk outside to become familiar with the layout.

Dean called Sam shortly before the kids arrived with an update from Bobby. The other hunters in the area weren't finding any evidence of activity so until they had more to go on, there wasn't much Dean and Sam could do except keep themselves available. That meant plenty of time to help out with camp.

There were sixty-five kids, ranging in age from seven to sixteen. The workshops had been divided into three sections based on their knowledge with Peter in charge of the most advanced ones, Travis handling the intermediates, and Mozzie the beginners. Neal and Sam were designated as floaters. They along with Dean would handle the midmorning break, freeing the others to prepare for the second round of workshops.

Neal and Sam were outside getting out the break equipment when the Impala pulled up in front of the observatory. Dean took one look at them in their astro camp t-shirts and laughed in their faces. That is, until Sam tossed him one to put on

"Not happening," Dean scoffed, putting his ears back like a stubborn mule. "Dude, I don't wear patterned t-shirts."

"It's a small gesture for the expert IDs you're getting," Neal countered. "Do you know how much they're worth on the black market?"

"Are those your handiwork?" he asked.

"Hypothetically speaking it's conceivable Mozzie may have called upon an expert for assistance." Dean and Sam knew next to nothing about Neal's less-than-legal skills and he didn't mind cracking the door. From the appraising look he was getting with Dean, he was glad he had. They had more in common than Dean realized.

"I have my shirt on," Sam pointed out "Even Satchmo's wearing an astronomy kerchief. It won't kill you. Besides, I like the message. It's a good one for us."

The t-shirts were black with the silhouette of a person against a field of stars. The message read _Life is looking up_. Peter had selected the design. They worked well for adults, and everyone could use with a little looking up in life. It made Neal wonder if Peter had chosen the t-shirt with him in mind.

"You should be grateful we're not asking you to wear space antennae like Mozzie has on," Neal added.

"You're joking, right?" Dean turned to Sam for confirmation.

Sam shook his head, grinning. "He's had them on all morning."

Neal adopted Peter's lay-down-the-law tone. "Here's the drill. In five minutes the kids will be turned loose. Our objective is to wear them out so they'll sit quietly for the next session." He led them over to a grassy area next to the main building. "We're dividing them into two groups based on age. I brought along foam fencing swords and masks to hold a mini-fencing camp and we also have space activities."

"So you weren't conning us about the blades?" Dean asked.

"Nope, I'm on a university team."

Dean dismissed Neal's fencing experience with a shrug. "You wear padded clothes, your swords have protective tips, and you use facemasks. What kind of sport is that?"

"Precisely. It's a sport, not carnage. I realize that's not your style."

Sam was looking through a list of activities while the two of them debated. "Here's one for you, Dean," he said, interrupting. "Asteroid smash."

"What's that?"

"It's sounds like dodgeball to me. Kids hurling balls at each other."

Dean grinned. "Sign me up."

Neal folded his arms. "Then you better put that t-shirt on. No shirt, no asteroid smash."

Dean relented just before the kids poured out of the building.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Asteroid smash turned out to go exactly as Sam expected. At the end of the break, they'd been forced to wrestle the ball away from Dean. Camp was a galaxy away from their normal world, and both he and Dean loved it.

Sam had helped Neal teach fencing. There was one little boy, Ethan, who'd obviously taken lessons. He appeared to idolize Neal. Neal had brought along his sabre to demonstrate some of the techniques to the kids. Afterward, he put it away and used a foam sword like everyone else. Travis had come out to help with break and led the opposing team in asteroid smash.

Afterward Dean and Travis took the kids inside to watch a video while Sam and Neal collected the equipment.

"Would you like to come back tonight for the stargazing session?" Neal asked. "Peter's designated Mozzie and me to work with the beginners. We'll point out some of the constellations and make up stories around them. They can imagine rock stars or sports figures in the sky."

"Or a superhero or two? Could be fun. If we're free, we'll help. Dean and I have done our share of stargazing. We often sleep in the car along a highway on the way to a job. I used to do some stargazing when I was a kid." He stopped. No need to dredge up the past. Maybe it had been their discussion about fathers last night or being around so many kids. It reminded him of how lonely he'd been as a child when his dad left him to go on a hunt.

"I never learned about the stars," Neal said, stacking the foam swords in a box. I skipped the Boy Scout experience."

"No merit badges?"

"Hardly. This is Peter's hobby, not mine."

Sam picked up the last of the balls, forcing back a yawn. He'd been concerned the others wouldn't sleep after his stories. Instead he was the one feeling wrecked. He was glad he'd opted for fencing. Asteroid smash would have finished him off.

That dream about the woman behind the veil hadn't helped. He hadn't thought about her for weeks then a few nights ago she reappeared. Last night the dream was more intense than ever before. Wasn't he supposed to feel exhilarated afterward, not wasted?

"Hey, Neal, do you still dream of the woman you told me about in Connecticut?"

"My Mozart babe? Funny you ask. I did a couple of nights ago for the first time in quite a while. She's blonde like my ex-girlfriend. I figured I was missing her. How about you? Any visits from the woman in the veil?"

"Once in a while," he admitted.

"Did you ever mention it to Dean?"

"No, last year I freaked him out when I was having premonitions of murders. Dreaming about a chick is a major improvement. I remember you mentioning your girlfriend. I'm sorry it didn't work out."

Neal shrugged and picked up the box of swords. "Our lives were too different. It was probably inevitable."

"You sound like me. Our jobs don't lend themselves to long-term relationships. Dean's on my case to hook up with someone, but there doesn't seem much point, besides the obvious one. We never stay around long enough for anything to develop. I envy what he has with Chloe. She's a wanderer like us. Doesn't put any demands on him. When they're together, it's great. They don't seem to mind not knowing when they'll see each other again." Dean could be right. He should at least take a stab at making a connection. That's probably all he needed to make the dreams stop.

When they went inside, the kids were still watching the video. Neal and Sam joined the adults in the radio room for cold drinks. Mozzie was there as well, although his bobbing space bug antennae made it questionable if he could be classified as an adult.

"How'd it go?" Peter asked, passing out sodas.

"We've made plans for an even larger asteroid belt tomorrow," Dean said, looking pleased. "More impacts, a few comets hurtling through. It's gonna get ugly."

Travis smiled. "I like your style. Space is not for wimps." His cell phone vibrated. When he glanced at the display, his expression grew thoughtful. "It's Daniel Leavitt from Columbia."

"He's the one who organized the camp," Peter explained. "He's on the astronomy faculty at Columbia and head of the East Coast branch of SETI."

"He's an authority on radio astronomy, a field I've also studied in depth." Mozzie added. He proceeded to expound on something called fractals and how they related to bees harboring alien intelligence. By the time he stopped to take a breath, Dean was staring at him cross-eyed. In the meantime, Travis had retreated into the telescope supply room, probably to get some quiet for his call.

When Travis returned to the office, he stood frozen like a statue for a moment as a smile slowly spread over his face.

Mozzie's mouth dropped. "What is it? Could it be . . .?"

Travis nodded.

Mozzie's face went white and he collapsed back into his chair.

"Will someone explain what the hell's going on?" Dean demanded impatiently.

Travis sat down and took a deep breath. "Daniel's been alerted from SETI headquarters at Berkeley that anomalous radio waves have been detected from a region of space in the constellation Draco. A discrete point is emitting the radiation. It's roughly 12.4 light years away."

"That doesn't sound too unusual," Peter commented, looking puzzled.

"If it were stationary, I'd agree, but the object appears to be moving toward us and at an unprecedented rate of speed. Berkeley's already brought in NASA to help them track it."

The magnitude of the discovery left Mozzie incapable of anything but gulping sounds for several seconds. "They're coming," he whispered, his eyes grown as large as the antenna balls on his headgear.

Travis shook his head vehemently. "No one's calling this an invasion."

The E.T. lover put a finger to his lips. "A wise precaution. We don't want to start a global panic."

The rest of them were not ready to embrace Mozzie's prediction of a close encounter of the third kind but focused on what was known about the signal.

"Isn't Draco the dragon constellation?" Dean asked.

"That's right," Neal confirmed. It's wrapped around Ursa Minor and overhead in the night sky right now. I'd planned to talk about it tonight during stargazing. I never could resist a dragon . . . or a nightgaunt."

Peter chuckled. "Neal, the dragon-rider. Figures you'd focus on it rather than its neighbor."

 _Nightgaunts?_ Sam remembered reading about them in a work by the horror writer H.P. Lovecraft. Did Neal and Peter have more experience with supernatural creatures than he'd realized or was this some private joke? His first opportunity he planned to ask, but Travis's disclosure was front and center.

"SETI is conferring with experts and seeking corroboration," Travis said. "We have no comparable transmission records. It's much too early to diagnose what the radiation is, but it's the most promising report we've ever received. Leavitt's working at Columbia. Fortunately, I brought my personal laptop so I have the necessary programs with me."

Mozzie turned to Dean. "You're investigating reports of an anistemi. Could this be it? The first sign of an alien invasion?"

Dean shot down the idea. "The reports we've heard have come from vampires. We have nothing—and I'm talking the big goose egg—to link space aliens with vampires."

"That's irrelevant," Mozzie persisted. "What do you know about the origin of vampires? Assuming they're supernatural without explaining how they derived their power is illogical. When you think about it, an extraterrestrial origin is the only rational explanation for vampires among us."

Mozzie could be right. Sam had never read how vampires came to be. Vampires from outer space made as much sense as anything else. He made a mental note to bring it up with Bobby.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

"Sun ritual or Litha peach?" The young waitress, clad in a blue gown and a witch's hat, waited patiently for Elizabeth to make up her mind.

El had no idea there were so many varieties of pagan herbal teas and looked to Janet and Chloe for help.

"Go with the Litha peach," Chloe advised. "I had it yesterday, and you'll love it."

When they returned from their morning field trip, the men hadn't arrived. El called Peter and told him to meet them at the Sabbat Tea Room on Main Street. He mentioned that Neal and the Winchesters would join them, but Travis and Mozzie were staying at the observatory. Some SETI emergency. Janet hadn't appeared surprised at the news. She must have built up quite a tolerance for Mozzie's many obsessions. What Janet had to put up with made El more than ever grateful for Peter's rock-solid reliability.

In honor of the Litha festival, the town of Hope had transformed itself into a Wiccan wonderland. Many of the stores had even renamed their establishments for the occasion. Where they were eating was normally called the Buttercup Tea Room. Janet had picked it because it had an outside patio where they could people watch. Peter might not be thrilled with the tea breads and organic salads they served, but as a surveillance location it couldn't be better. The women had gone early to stake their claim to a large table near the sidewalk.

As El gazed at the crowd strolling along Main Street, she wondered how they'd be able to spot someone suspicious when everyone looked unusual, and for many that was a kind way of expressing it. Visitors, townspeople, and vendors alike wore peasant or vaguely medieval attire. It reminded her of a Renaissance fair. She and Janet had stopped by the inn to change clothes before lunch. They were now wearing broomstick skirts and peasant blouses. All she needed was love beads, and a number of shops were ready to supply her with the Wiccan version—pagan prayer beads. What would her Methodist parents say if they saw her wearing them?

Chloe had stayed in her same look of peasant tunic top with skintight jeans and boots. This was El's first opportunity to spend much time with her. She was almost as tall as Dean. Peter called Dean and Sam hunters. Chloe looked like she belonged with them.

The huntress stood up and waved to someone in the crowd. El turned around to see Peter, Neal, and the Winchesters enter the patio area.

Dean was surveying the place uneasily as he sat down. "They do serve beer here, right?"

"No such luck," Chloe said, "but there's a beer garden down the way we can hit later."

"Cheeseburgers?"

Sam was studying the menu. "Close. There's something called Sunrise Renewal Burger made with lentils."

Dean stood up. "I'm outta here."

"No, you're not," Chloe said, pulling him back down.

She whispered something in his ear and he grinned. "I can put up with it for one meal."

They decided over lunch that after perusing the shops Dean and Peter would talk with the local police. Sam planned to return to the observatory to work with Mozzie and Travis. El was amazed that he was taking the SETI report so seriously. But then, if one routinely dealt with vampires and witches, perhaps it wasn't that much of a stretch. From what Peter had told her, she'd been leading a sheltered life all these years. She intended to change that. She'd never taken Mozzie's conspiracy theories seriously, but El blamed herself for being too dismissive. If witches and vampires were real, she should accept the possibility of space aliens.

When they left the tea room, El asked Chloe for a recommendation for an introductory book about Wicca.

"The Elysian Bookstore has set up a booth inside the antique store just down the street," Chloe said. "They have an excellent selection of all things Wiccan. I was planning to stop there anyway."

"I've ordered books from them," Neal added. "They're one of the main sources for art books on the East Coast."

"I hope to have a book signing there someday," Chloe admitted. "I got to meet the owner at my coven meeting there last month. She allows us to use a room at the bookstore."

"We should talk with her," Sam told Dean. "She may know something about the anistemi."

The group decided to go to the store together.

The bookstore had been allocated two long tables in the front of the store. It was a smart strategy for the antique store, as once visitors were inside, they usually stayed to browse through the antique crystal, china, and furniture that made up the bulk of the store's offerings.

Two women stood behind the tables, each wearing a name tag emblazoned with the bookstore's logo. They were both blonde. The older woman appeared to be roughly El's age. She guessed the younger one was several years younger.

Chloe walked up to the older woman. "I've told them about your wonderful store. All, this is Electra Stavrou, the owner."

"Thank you, Chloe. You're too kind." El was struck by Electra's voice. It was deep and sophisticated with a slight hint of an accent El couldn't place. Perhaps British? Electra introduced them to her sister Maia, a graduate student at Yale University.

Dean began questioning the women about the Litha festival. "Maia knows more about it than I do," Electra said. "There's a small coven at Yale who asked me to increase our supply of books on Wicca among our occult offerings."

"A friend introduced me to the Alyssum Coven," Maia added. "I went to a meeting on a lark. I didn't know what to expect, but had vague notions they might wear togas and light candles. Instead I discovered their focus is on ancient pagan practices and I became quite interested in the mythology. That's not a surprise, I suppose, since my field is the Classics. There are some parallels with ancient Greek culture."

"Have you heard the term _anistemi_?" Sam asked.

She nodded. "Anistemi is a Greek word. It means to rise or stand up. Why do you ask?"

"A friend mentioned it in connection with the Litha festival," Dean said.

While Dean and Sam continued to talk with the sisters, Chloe helped El and Janet pick out introductory books on Wicca. Peter was already fidgety. El knew she was on borrowed time before he'd insist on stepping outside. Peter's tolerance for shopping was near zero. Normally she could count on Neal for support, but his thoughts appeared elsewhere too.

After they'd made their selections, Janet announced, "I'm leaving for the observatory and the latest on the extraterrestrials heading our way." El noticed Electra's eyes widen at her comment.

"I'll catch a ride back with Janet," Neal said. "My paints are calling to me. There's a wildflower meadow nearby, and an afternoon of painting _en plein air_ awaits."

"You'll be our Claude Monet," El said. "I can't wait to see the results."

"You're an artist?" Electra asked, looking intrigued. "We must talk more sometime."

Sam walked over to Janet. "Do you have room for one more? Dean and Chloe don't need me tagging along."

When Neal headed for the door, Electra stopped him at the entrance and handed him her business card. Her voice was too low for El to catch anything but a few words. Apparently they were discussing his art.

"Anything wrong?" Peter asked in a low voice.

"Neal better watch it," El murmured. "He's made a conquest with Electra. I hear the purr of a cougar coming out of her."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Chloe had introduced Dean to more Wiccans than he'd ever cared to meet. The chick had a knack for becoming friends with everyone. One flowery woman named Wisteria Brigham ran the inn where Chloe was living in New Haven. Wisteria was the head of the Alyssum Sisterhood and talked his head off for twenty minutes about the wonders of Wicca, the delightfulness of Chloe—something he'd agreed with—and the charms of New Haven. She also insisted on introducing her sister Peony, a woman cast in the same mold.

Both women were British transplants and had been active in Wicca in Devon. They were both gaga over the featured speaker Gemma Blackthorne. She was a British scholar and supposedly an authority on Wicca. Dean wasn't thrilled at the thought of having to chat up yet another witch wannabe. He hoped to persuade Sam to tackle the chore.

"You must visit me next time you're in New Haven," Wisteria gushed. "You _are_ coming, aren't you?"

"Wisteria has the most marvelous cook," Chloe added. "Best pie I've ever had."

"You're saying the magic words." Dean forced a smile for Chloe's sake. She seemed fond of the woman, even though Dean feared he'd suffocate from lavender asphyxiation.

"And next time you're in New York," Peony added. "I'll be devastated if you don't visit my B&B. I call it Peony's B's. Rather clever, don't you think?"

Dean winced an acknowledgement which only served to spur her on.

"It's on the Upper West Side close to Riverside Park. We gather for cocktails every evening. I make the most divine homemade wine—you simply must try it. Our coven meets for poetry reading and scones on Wednesday evenings."

"Peony's a member of the Silver Cauldron," Wisteria explained. Dean wondered if Mozzie had heard of them. He appeared to have a direct line on everything weird going on in New York City. Did that extend to the occult?

"We focus on the study of herbs and potions to achieve a higher spirituality," Peony added with a smile that made Dean think of hot blackberry cobbler. What were her scones like?

"My sister has studied herbs and potions for years," Wisteria told Chloe. "She's turned the roof of her inn into an herb garden and greenhouse."

It wasn't easy to pry Chloe loose from Peony once she heard about her expertise with herbs, but Dean finally succeeded. He'd quickly lost interest after discovering they knew nothing about an anistemi.

He and Peter had agreed to go to the police this afternoon. Dean was more than willing to let Peter handle the delicate task of inquiring about any attacks which smacked of vampires. The town was too small to have its own police department. A unit of the state police oversaw operations in the nearby town of Totowa.

"Will you be back for dinner?" Chloe asked.

"That depends on what we find out. Sam and I are meeting with Bobby afterward. Late drinks at the tavern?"

"Count on it."

It was too bad Sam hadn't hung around. Chloe was right. The town was filled with college chicks. Something was seriously wrong with the dude that he preferred hanging out with geeks. It was up to his big brother to set him straight. "Maia appeared interested in Sam. What do you think?"

Chloe gave him a mischievous look. "You noticed that too. I saw how her eyes lit up."

"How well do you know her?"

"I met her through the coven. We chatted during the social hour, and hit it off. She struck me as being a little lonely. She's taken me around to some of the local shops." Chloe paused to consider for a moment. "She's on the quiet side. Sam would probably like that."

"Do you know if she's seeing anyone?"

"I don't think so. She commented how her studies weren't leaving much time for a social life. Would you like me to invite her to join us?"

"That's my girl. She's the studious type, just like Sam. They can do research together."

"I bet their research won't be as fun as ours," Chloe said with a sly grin.

Dean pulled her in and kissed her. "You have a dirty mind."

"Only for you, Ravensword."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Neal checked in with Mozzie and Travis when they arrived back at the observatory. The radio signals were continuing on the same trajectory, but there wasn't anything Neal could do about a possible space invasion. Sam, on the other hand, happily pulled up a chair to join them. Janet planned to spend the afternoon sketching designs for a new fashion show.

When Peter first mentioned the idea of camp, the suggestion to paint outside was the hook which excited Neal the most. Up to now he'd rarely had the opportunity. He'd brought along a wide-brimmed straw hat to help channel his inner Monet. The wildflower meadow he'd discovered was only a few hundred yards away. Travis was letting him use his car to transport his supplies.

Neal slapped the straw hat on his head, called Satchmo, and the two of them headed out in Travis's car. Monet had painted the poppy fields at Argenteuil. He'd depict the wildflower meadow at Jenny Jump State Forest.

He pulled into a parking space near a large maple at the edge of the meadow. The tree would provide some shade from the bright midday sun. Satchmo spent the first several minutes chasing small yellow butterflies before plopping down in the middle of a patch of pale pink wildflowers. Neal made a note to ask Janet what they were. Soon Satchmo was twitching his paws as he reveled in doggie dreams. He made the perfect subject.

Neal considered painting him with a butterfly on his nose but decided against it. He was aiming for a Monet vibe, not Winslow Homer.

Humming "Yellow" under his breath, he squeezed paints onto his palette. There was no one around. It was a serenity he seldom experienced. Mozzie's Thoreau moments began to make much more sense.

 **Monday night at the Greenwood Observatory.**

The first evening stargazing session had gone well as far as Neal was concerned. Armed with a star chart, he and the kids had spread mats on the grass and looked up at the stars, not bothering with binoculars. Mozzie had different headgear to wear at night—boppers with LED antennae which made him look like he'd just dropped down to earth from his spaceship. The youngest kids all had glow-in-the-dark space antennae headbands. El had suggested them as a way to keep track of their pint-sized charges, and they were an instant hit.

The kids had already been picked up and bused back to the nature camp. Neal was helping Peter with cleanup chores.

"Put the binoculars on the shelf next to the star charts," Peter directed as he wiped the lenses. "Did you find the lens cap for the spotting scope?"

Neal handed him the cap. "Travis discovered it in the grass."

"Thanks. Where is our man from SETI?"

"Surely you can guess. As soon as the camp counselors arrived, he headed back to the radio room. Mozzie's there, too."

"Figures. Has Mozzie started to excavate a bunker to hide out from the aliens?"

"No need. He wants to be the first to greet them with open arms."

Peter chuckled. "He can practice on the fireflies."

"Is it unusual to see so many? The meadow was ablaze with them."

"I've never seen anything like it. We should ask a ranger."

"When we were storytelling, Amita told us about a legend she'd learned at school where fireflies are stars descending to earth."

"Don't tell Mozzie," Peter warned. "That will simply stoke the flames. He already thinks bees can be possessed by alien intelligence. Soon he will think fireflies are space aliens." He zipped the cover on the spotting scope. "Is Ethan sweet on Amita?"

Neal nodded. "Pretty obvious, isn't it? I bet she's his first crush, and he has it bad." At the sound of footsteps, Neal spun around to see Janet and Mozzie enter the classroom, followed by Sam and Travis. Sam was carrying a couple of boxes.

"Pie for the hungry astronomers," Janet announced. "El picked these up for us earlier in the day at the farmer's market—we have blueberry and blackberry. There's ice cream in the freezer."

They headed upstairs for dessert, with Janet taking charge of dishing out the pie.

"Who wants honey wine?" Mozzie asked as he opened the fridge.

"I'm sticking with beer," Sam said. "I bought a couple of six-packs at the store to replenish our supply."

Peter spooned a mound of ice cream on top of his slice of blackberry pie. "Any reports of vampires in the area?"

Sam nodded while swallowing a bite of blueberry pie. "Bobby's put together a map of suspected vampire attacks over the past couple of weeks and the general direction is toward this area. But the frequency of attacks is very low. We've heard about sightings from other hunters, but the vamps are being discreet. We suspect they may be carrying their food sources with them."

Janet looked at him wide-eyed. "They take along bottles of blood?"

"They could, but more likely they're transporting cattle with them—either human or livestock—to feed off. Bobby's checking with a contact in Europe who may know something about the anistemi." He turned to Travis. "What about the radio waves?"

"Our latest theory is that the waves come from a previously undiscovered pulsar. Dark matter may have obscured its transmission. We're seeking confirmation from the National Radio Astronomy Observatory in Green Bank, North Carolina."

Neal looked at Mozzie and smiled in sympathy. "So, the transmission wasn't sent by little green men?"

He shook his head vehemently. "Not necessarily, and I refuse to comment on their skin color till I have more data. There's still unexplained anomalous behavior. The signal now appears to come from multiple discrete sources, all of which are moving in our direction."

"That's one possibility," Travis agreed. "Another is that a gravitational lens has broken up the signal which makes it appear to come from separate points."

"Poppycock," Mozzie declared, dismissing the theory with a wave of his hand. "Sam and Dean say vampires are heading our way. I stand by my belief that aliens are as well."

"El and I had a very pleasant dinner with Electra Stavrou and Gemma Blackthorne," Janet said, providing a welcome distraction from UFOs. "When we arrived at the restaurant, the tables were all taken but Electra asked us to join them. So kind of them. It turns out that Electra is quite interested in the theater. That seems appropriate, given her name."

"The sisters' names are both unusual," Neal said. "It makes me wonder if their parents were into Greek mythology."

"Close," she replied. "Electra explained that their father taught Classics at Cambridge and was of Greek descent. He named his daughters after two of the Pleiades. I asked them if they had more sisters, but she said she and her sister were so unruly, they stopped at two."

"It's too bad the Pleiades star cluster isn't visible right now," Peter said. "It would be a good story to tell the kids."

"Gemma teaches botany at a college near Dartmoor. Tomorrow morning she's making a presentation in town about the summer solstice and then will lead the rites at noon in the park." Janet turned to Sam. "We speculated a little about what the significance of an anistemi could be."

"What did they say?"

"Gemma wondered if someone wasn't associating it with the symbolism of the fire ritual. Litha celebrates the sun and the power of fire. Since fire acts as a purifier, perhaps it could also be considered an anistemi. Did Maia have anything more to say about it?"

Sam shook his head. "She joined the Alyssum Coven about the same time as Chloe and hasn't heard it mentioned in connection with any ritual."

"El, Chloe, and I plan to attend the noon rites," Janet said. "The Litha group's campsite is the one on the north side of the park. That's also where the bonfire that night will be."

"You're still not worried about them having events in the park?" Peter asked Sam.

"Certainly not the midday festival. Vampires avoid sunlight. They're not fond of fire in general. It's hard to see them hanging around a bonfire."

"That's what makes this anistemi a puzzle," Neal said. "If Litha's all about fire, why would vampires stage something close to it?"

Peter looked grim. "They could be considering it a distraction."

Sam nodded. "We were concerned about that too. If they intend to stage an attack, their most likely target is the town. Dean and I plan to patrol Hope tomorrow night." He stood up to carry his plate to the sink. "Anything strange happen during the stargazing?"

Neal stood up to carry his plate to the sink. "Not unless you want to count an unusually high number of fireflies in the meadow, and despite what Mozzie may tell you, I don't think they were space invaders. While we stargazed, I kept a careful watch for UFOs and didn't spot anything."

 **Guest cottage at the Inn. Monday evening.**

"More blood, sisters?" Gemma withdrew the opaque bottle from the mini-fridge and refilled their glasses. Her silver jewelry tinkled as she walked. Electra admired the attire Gemma had chosen for the evening. With her long brunette hair a disheveled mass of curls and her bohemian steampunk attire, she could spark a new fashion trend on college campuses. Soon Wicca covens would flourish throughout the eastern colleges and universities. An important stepping stone to their resurgence.

Electra sniffed the blood in her glass and winced. Another waitress. She turned to Maia. "Was this the best the vampires could provide us with?"

Maia sighed and nodded. "The areas they're moving through don't provide many options."

Gemma returned the bottle to the fridge and sat down on the couch next to Electra. She took a sip from her glass and also made a face. "I see what you mean. The hardships you have to endure on your side of the pond! Fortunately in the U.K. our pure-bloods are well established. I wish I could have brought you some of the fine vintages I have available. Traveling by public means is so inconvenient."

"I envy your success in the world of theater," Electra said. "So many creative minds to sample from. I intend to take advantage of that also."

Gemma nodded in agreement. "You've tended to focus on artists, but I encourage you to broaden your horizons. For instance, those two charming women we had dinner with—Elizabeth and Janet. I longed to extract samples. You should cultivate their friendship. In time, Janet could provide access to the theater world and Broadway. "

"And Elizabeth, as well," Electra added. "Her community theater activities intrigue me. Amateurs sometimes have more creativity than professionals." She conjured a vision of Elizabeth in her mind, reclining on a velvet settee, as Electra delicately traced the graceful curve of her neck with her finger. "I believe I shall pay a visit to New York City. We've become too distant from our chosen ones. If we only drink what the vampires supply us, it's not very satisfying."

"But our success over the millennia has rested on us keeping a low profile," Gemma cautioned.

"And I don't intend to change that," Electra confirmed, "but we've always maintained a sizable stable of protégés to draw from. I have become too cautious. My cellar needs to be replenished."

"Once the pure-bloods have arrived and established their fiefdoms, you'll no longer have to endure inferior products," Gemma said. "Soon you will surpass Britain in the resources available to you." She turned to Maia. "You spent a few hours with the hunters. Did they tell you how they learned of the anistemi?"

"No, but we've heard hunters have been more active in the Northeast. Perhaps one of them managed to capture one of the vampires heading this way. From the questions they asked me, it was clear they don't know anything about the ritual."

"And even if they did," Electra added. "They will be unable to stop it. The process has already begun." She smiled. "I find their questions deliciously entertaining."

Gemma rearranged her necklaces. "Through Maia you may be able to establish an inside track on the hunters' activities. Sam could be the conduit which allows you to always to stay informed."

Electra slanted a glance at her sister who was glowing at the words of approval. When Maia had first expressed an interest in Sam, Electra had been skeptical. His creativity had been stifled for so long by the life he led, she doubted Sam would ever amount to much. But now he was doubly attractive. Could Neal prove equally valuable?

Crowley had described his role in the FBI. Traditionally the sisters had never needed to worry about interference from law enforcement agencies. But that could change. The FBI now appeared to be acting in cooperation with hunters, a situation which required further study. For now, Electra resolved to keep her options open. In any case, she was in no hurry to consume Neal. He was far too attractive to be squandered quickly.

"I feel odd to be the one conducting the bonfire ceremony," Gemma remarked. "By rights, it should be your honor. You're the one the Wiccans worship as their Moon Goddess."

"I shall be with you, guiding every move," said Electra, pleased at her acknowledgement, "but I plan to take advantage of my bystander status to deepen my friendship with Elizabeth and Janet."

Gemma laughed, making her bracelets tinkle. "By all means, work your charm on them."

Electra turned to Maia. "When will you see Sam next?"

Maia smiled demurely. "He mentioned that he might see me at the midday ceremony. I intend to make that a certainty. A long stroll in the woods afterward . . ." She twirled a strand of her hair in her fingers. "You shouldn't expect me back before evening."

Electra raised her glass. "Sisters, to the anistemi!"

* * *

 ** _Notes_** _: Next week in Chapter 4: They're Coming, Bobby Singer pays a call to the observatory and Mozzie receives gratifying news. Dean and Peter go on patrol together while Neal, Sam, and Mozzie confront something that was not on any of their radar screens._

 _The story that Sam related about Bloody Mary happened in the Season 1, Episode 5 episode of Supernatural. He and Dean are quite familiar with deities who hide their true nature by masquerading as ordinary folks. In this series Electra, Maia, and Gemma relish their ability to walk freely among us mere mortals. That's my topic for this week's blog post: Folks Like Us._

 _Many thanks to you for reading and your comments, and hugs to Penna for acting as beta for both Caffrey Conversation and Supernatural!_

 ** _Blog_** _: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation  
_ _ **Chapter Visuals and Music**_ _: The Fireflies at Midnight board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website  
New pins include scenes from the Wicca festival, Gemma, Mozzie's antenna headgear, the astro camp t-shirt, and Neal's painting inspirations._


	4. They're Coming

**Chapter 4: They're Coming**

 **Greenwood Observatory, Jenny Jump State Park. Tuesday, June 21, 2005.**

"What's wrong?"

When Neal returned to the classroom from stowing away the break equipment, he found Ethan sitting by himself in the back of the room. The other kids were gathered around Peter and Travis in the front, making 3-D models of the solar system.

A dark storm cloud was hovering over Ethan's head, and the first drops of rain had already started to fall. Neal sat down next to him. "Anything I can do?"

"Amita hates me."

Neal put an arm around him. "Why do you say that?"

Ethan sniffled and wiped his nose on his arm before Neal could hand him a tissue. "Whenever I try to help her, she runs away. I thought she was my friend."

"She _is_ your friend. I thought you two were getting along really well."

"I did too. I thought she"—more sniffles—"was my girlfriend, but now she won't have anything to do with me." His face crumpled as the thunderstorm threatened to let loose.

"Maybe you're trying too hard? I noticed that you've been helping her with every activity, but sometimes friends like to figure things out for themselves. We can't do everything for them."

"But what if we can do it better?"

Neal smiled. "They may not appreciate it. I bet if you asked her for help, you'd be pleasantly surprised."

"Act dumb?"

"Not exactly, but let her lead. You know how good you feel when you can show her something. Let her experience that, too."

Mozzie entered the classroom, the antennae on his head bouncing as he walked. "Space cadets, your starship awaits. Time to head back for lunch."

Neal handed Ethan another tissue and made a quick swipe of his own nose. Ethan took the hint and gave him a big grin as he ran off to join the others.

"He okay?" Peter asked, walking up.

"Woman trouble."

"Ah yes." Peter sat down next to him. "I saw him with Amita."

"Slightly obvious. This is one satellite which may have been orbiting too closely."

Peter beamed. "Look at you! Astronomy analogies. My work is done."

"The art of wooing is in the stars. It all makes sense to me now. No wonder I messed up before."

Peter chuckled. "Way to go, space cadet."

Travis joined them to clean up the classroom. The morning session had gone off without a hitch. Dean and Travis had developed the art of asteroid smash into a tournament competition, with the finals to be held tomorrow. Over on the fencing field, Neal planned to have the musketeers square off against the forces of Richelieu with Sam playing the part of the musketeers' nemesis.

"The starship achieved liftoff with all cadets on board," Mozzie announced when he returned. "Travis, what are you doing here? Why aren't you checking out the SETI reports? The aliens could have landed during class."

"I doubt it strenuously," he said, carrying a stack of cardboard cutouts to the storage cabinet. "If you'd lend a hand, we could get back to it faster." He tossed him a broom.

Since El was attending the Litha midday festival with Janet in the park, Neal had no difficulty in persuading Peter to stay and have lunch in the observatory. They'd just cleaned up the classroom when a stranger walked in. Scruffy-looking dude in his mid-forties with brown hair and a beard. He wore a stained ball cap and had a flannel shirt on over his t-shirt even though it was hot outside.

"May we help you?" Peter asked, approaching him.

"I'm looking for Dean and Sam," he growled. His bear voice was even better than Peter's.

"Are you Bobby?"

He hesitated. "Maybe. You Peter?"

So this was the famous Bobby Singer. "Dean and Sam are upstairs changing," Neal explained, introducing himself. "For some unknown reason they didn't want to wear their camp t-shirts to the Litha festival."

Mozzie burst out of the radio room, his face flushed with excitement. "They've moved closer!"

"What planet did you drop in from?" Bobby blurted, staring incredulously at his head boppers.

Neal made the introductions and tapped on E.T.'s antennae to remind him astro camp was over.

Travis entered the classroom, looking nearly as excited as Mozzie. "The trajectory path and speed have been confirmed. Multiple sources heading in our direction!"

"What are you talking about?" Bobby demanded, looking at them as if they were all crazy.

"The spaceships, of course," Mozzie said.

"An unknown deep space event," Travis corrected.

Bobby snorted his disbelief. "Balls. This ain't an observatory. It's the loony bin."

"What are you doing here, Bobby?" Dean asked, walking down the stairs.

"I wanted to warn you about the anistemi, but obviously you have bigger issues to worry about, what with space aliens about to descend upon you."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

After his initial encounter with Mozzie the Space Alien, Bobby looked like he could use a beer, and God knew Dean could too after a morning of camp, so they reconvened in the bunk room. There was plenty of room at the table for everyone. Sam had replenished the beer supply the previous night, and Janet had stopped by on the way to the festival to stock the fridge with cold cuts and all the makings for sandwiches. Dean appreciated her more each day. He'd already discovered the leftover pie.

Peter was studying Bobby closely. He was no doubt itching to run his prints. Dean was sure Peter had run his and Sam's when he first met them.

"I heard back from a hunter in Romania," Bobby said, squirting some mustard on his ham sandwich. "He's the first one I've found who's heard of the term in connection with vamps. He's the European expert on the bloodsuckers. I figured if anyone had heard of it, it'd be Stefan." Bobby stopped to scan them all. "According to an old legend the mother of all vampires could raise a new generation of fangs when the stars are in correct alignment with the planets. The rite's called an anistemi."

"Does he know which ones need to be in alignment?" Travis asked.

"The only one that was named in the legend is Vega."

"That's the brightest star in the sky right now," Peter noted. "It's in the constellation Lyra, or the Lyre."

"It's also very close to the mouth of the dragon, Draco, where our mysterious radio signals are coming from," Mozzie added.

Bobby took a swig of his beer. "And before you ask, when I said mother of all vampires, I meant that literally. Stefan said that according to the most ancient text he's discovered—and this is a sixth century manuscript located in an old monastery in Italy—all vampires can be traced back to one female. I don't know if you'd call her a vampire, a god, or a spirit. The source simply identifies her as Astrena and claims she creates vampires out of a crimson star. One text identifies it as Antares. Does that make any sense to you astro-nuts?"

Travis nodded. "It does. Antares is the reddest star in the summer sky. It's in the constellation Scorpius."

"Vampires made from a scorpion?" Bobby shrugged. "Yeah, that sounds about right. During the rite of anistemi, the vamps Astrena creates are not just your run-of-the-mill hack-and-slash vamps but pure-bloods. They're not tainted by us humans until they have their first meal. Stefan found a description of an anistemi by a Romanian monk writing in 1520. According to this source, it occurs on midnight of the summer solstice. For a week before, fireflies announce the arrival of these pure-bloods who descend to earth as shooting stars. Sounds like a lot of hogwash to me, but the monk claims to have personally witnessed an anistemi. He said the shooting stars turned into fireballs and crashed into a field, setting it ablaze."

"Shooting stars are another name for meteor showers," Travis said, "but there aren't any bright ones around the summer solstice."

"We've noticed the fireflies," Neal added. "According to the park rangers, they're not normally this prolific. That part, at least, tallies with the legend."

Peter wasn't ready to drink the Kool-Aid. "The key word you just said was _legend_. These reports sound like superstitions and myths, nothing more."

"I wouldn't be so quick to judge," Mozzie warned. "Studies have shown that insect behavior is modified by weather. Pheromones are particularly sensitive to atmospheric conditions. Ants and centipedes can forecast earthquakes. Why can't fireflies predict an anistemi?"

Travis seemed particularly intrigued. "The shooting stars the monk described were no doubt meteors. As they plunged through earth's atmosphere they would have turned into fireballs and could have set the woods on fire. He may have seen the phenomenon and attributed it to the legend."

"Let's get real for a minute, folks," Peter said, setting down his sandwich. "Would someone explain to me how fireballs can turn into uber-vamps?"

"Do you expect me to solve everything for you?" Bobby mocked. "I don't know, but the monk claimed the pure-bloods set up kingdoms of vampires in the service of their queen"—he made air quotes—"Astrena, her worship."

"Did the monk explain how he learned so much about them?" Sam asked.

"He wrote that he searched through ancient texts about fireballs and found a Latin manuscript about an anistemi which described the same event, fireflies and all. It claimed an ancient Greek text as a reference. Stefan hasn't found those texts. They may no longer exist."

As Dean listened to the tale, it didn't sound any crazier than the stories behind many of the other demons, spirits, and whacked-out gods they had to deal with. "Do you know anything more about these pure-bloods?"

Bobby karate-chopped him with one look. "You wanna give me a little time? Not so long ago vampires were fading from the radar. Most of the expertise is in Europe. It ain't gonna be easy."

"When is it ever?" Sam got up to make himself another sandwich. "I don't understand why we haven't heard about this before. Hunters have been working in Europe for hundreds of years. Wouldn't somebody else have witnessed an event like this?"

"Not necessarily," Travis said. "Some star alignments only occur once in a thousand years."

"Astrena might have gotten better at concealing the events," Neal pointed out.

"Here's what you boys need to know for now," Bobby said. "According to that sixteenth century monk, vampires gather from all over the region to protect the freshly minted pure-bloods. I guess it takes a little while to bring them up to speed. The anistemi occurs the night of the summer solstice which means tonight. Stefan says there have been no reports of vampires causing mass mayhem or slaughter during one of these events, but if we're about to have pure-bloods rain down upon us, we ought to kill them while we can. You'll need all the help you can get. I brought extra gear in my pickup and plan to stick around. I've put the call out to other hunters to help us patrol."

Mozzie turned to Travis. "Those radio waves may be connected in some way to the anistemi. We should report this to SETI."

Travis's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Report what? That the emissions indicate that pure-blood vampires will descend to earth as shooting stars? Our credibility would be destroyed. They'd banish us."

Mozzie grumbled, but Travis was right. Dean had gone through far too many experiences with locals who never believed in the supernatural until they were presented with the horrific evidence, and even then they'd figure out some other way to explain it. Dean was inclined to believe Stefan and the monk's report. Anistemis could have taken place throughout history, but people refused to accept what had happened.

"I brought over my laptop," Bobby added. "I'll set up shop here and try to find out more about Astrena."

"I can help," Mozzie offered. "I know Latin and Greek. My Hebrew's a little rusty, but I'm sure it'll come back to me."

Bobby eyed him curiously. "Dean and Sam warned me about you. It's a good thing I brought my flask."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Mozzie and Bobby had headed downstairs to use the computers in the radio room. Neal's focus, though, was not on Astrena but on what they were supposed to do tonight. Judging by Peter's worried face, their camp leader had the same concerns.

"What do you advise?" Peter asked Dean. "Mount a vampire patrol? You've been talking about vampires gathering from across a wide region. Even if we had dozens of hunters available, how could we possibly defend the entire park?"

Neal eyed Travis. Could he kill vampires? Neal had brought him up to speed about the events in New Jersey—the only time he'd encountered vampires, but he didn't think Travis believed him. He'd never seen Travis use a sword. Should he give him lessons?

But on what? Machetes? Neal didn't qualify either. He was a fencer, not an executioner. According to Dean and Sam, the only way to kill a vampire was to behead them. Peter had described what happened when Dean killed the vampires in New Jersey. Could Neal have decapitated a vampire that despite his fangs looked human? What if it were a woman? One of the vampires in New Jersey had been an attractive woman.

Dean was right in his assessment. All Neal's fencing had been with a protective tip. He'd always been careful not to harm anyone with his blade. Now he might have to kill someone. His eyes moved to the fencing sabre propped in the corner of the bunk room. Use that to draw blood? Modern fencing swords didn't have sharp blades. Against a vampire they'd be useless.

He turned and saw Peter watching him. The unspoken question was written on his face, too.

"If the reports are true, the vampires will be focused on protecting the new arrivals," Dean said. "They won't be on a bloodlust rampage but will want to hustle the pure-bloods to some secluded spot. Anyone who is inside their house will be safe. That part of vampire lore is correct. Vampires can't enter your premises uninvited."

"Does that apply to tents?" Travis asked. "Or observatory bunk rooms?"

Sam nodded. "Tent flaps are a close call, but what Bobby said reinforces what we already thought. The kids leave at nine o'clock. They'll be in a bus and should be fine. The same thing applies to the bonfire festival. That will be a large group of people, a roaring blaze—all hex signs for vamps. The last thing they want to do is attract attention. Dean, Bobby, and I will patrol the park entrances beginning at sunset. Once the kids have left, we'll meet you here."

"You're suggesting we hold a second observing session," Travis said.

"That's right," Dean confirmed. "We'll watch for shooting stars. See if any spark a fire."

"I'm going to meet El at the Litha festival," Peter said, carrying his plate to the kitchen. "It should be in full swing now. I'll catch some rest in the afternoon and advise you to do the same. It could be a long night."

Dean and Sam left for the festival the same time as Peter. Neal planned to spend the afternoon painting. He wondered how El would react to the news. She'd insisted on being included, but would she feel the same way after hearing about pure-bloods?

Bobby's report must have made Peter want to alert the law enforcement agencies. But how could he? No one would believe him.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

No supernatural threats marred the stargazing session that evening, but Neal breathed easier when the buses arrived to take the kids back to their camp. The adults had kept a careful watch for shooting stars and fireballs in the sky, but the only fire reported was the bonfire for the Litha festival.

The Winchesters and Bobby showed up as the buses were leaving and helped stow equipment. Satchmo was doing his fair share by fetching the antennae headbands which had been left scattered on the grass.

Neal questioned Sam about the midday festival as they picked up ground mats.

"It reminded me of a new age event," he said. "Lots of singing and dancing. They recited poetry, lit candles, and prayed to their gods."

"Chloe told me Wiccans worship the Moon Goddess and the Horned God. Are there any others?"

"Not that I know of. Honestly, it was pretty harmless stuff. I talked with Elizabeth and Janet. They said that Gemma Blackthorne's talk about the origins of Wicca was quite enlightening. Many of the locals came to find out what it was all about. After the festival, Chloe introduced us to more of the sisters in her coven. Maia stopped by to say hi and a minute later Dean and Chloe took off." He shrugged. "Dean and Chloe seem determined to fix me up with her."

"You could do worse. She seems nice and she's certainly easy on the eyes."

"She does take my mind off vampires," Sam acknowledged with a grin. "We took a walk along Orchard Trail. It winds through the woods and eventually you emerge at a vista where you can see the Delaware River."

Satchmo trotted up with another headband and dropped it at Neal's feet. Sam sat down on a bench and called Satchmo over. "Dean and I crisscross the States and in the process drive through some of the most beautiful country out there, but we don't generally take the time to enjoy it. I did today. Maybe it was Maia being there. It was a little weird. I felt like I already knew her even though we'd just met."

Neal turned to look at him, surprised. Sam talking about the beauty of the countryside? Maia was having more of an impact than he would have guessed. He sat down next to Sam. "Her sister mentioned she was studying the classics. You know Latin. You could read Latin love poetry together."

Neal expected Sam to blow him out of the water for that last remark, but instead he turned red. Could he have actually been reading poetry with Maia? Would that count as a supernatural event?

Sam was quick to deny it but admitted they'd discussed it. "I asked her what she knew about the Moon Goddess and the Horned God. She thought the origins went back to the ancient Egyptians and the tales of Isis and Seth. That got us started talking about the Greek gods and classical myths. She's an expert in the field. There's one goddess in particular, Hecate, who is the goddess of witchcraft and sorcery. Maia said many Wiccans worship her."

Sam continued to stroke Satchmo. He must have discovered what Neal already knew. Satchmo was excellent at providing comfort without asking difficult questions.

"There's something about Maia. She brings out a side I didn't know I had. Don't tell Dean, but when I heard her quote Catullus, it made me want to write poetry too. Crazy, huh?"

"Not necessarily. Have you ever written poetry?"

"A little," he admitted. "In grade school I had a teacher who encouraged me and I wrote some when no one was around. I never let on to Dean or Dad. It seemed so alien to what they were doing. I figured they'd never let me live it down."

Maia was bringing out a thoughtful, lyrical side in Sam he wouldn't have known existed. It reminded Neal of when he'd been teased as a child for preferring art to football. "You and Maia share some common interests—your knowledge of Latin, your love of research."

He snorted. "I wouldn't call it _love_."

Neal shrugged. "You spend enough time glued to your laptop to qualify. You're not that different from a scholar researching ancient works. She may sense that and feel you can relate to her life."

"There's a rush I feel with her, an exhilaration . . ." He laughed it off. "I'm probably just horny."

"Do you have any plans to see her again?"

"I'm not sure. She and her sister will leave tomorrow evening. Depending on what happens tonight, we may already be gone."

"New Haven's not that far away."

"With my life, it's better not get involved with anyone. How could I drag someone like her into my world?"

"I didn't want to share the harsher aspects of my job with my ex-, but there was a part of me who longed to be in her world. I don't know if I ever gave us a fair chance."

Sam stared at him with surprise. "Dean and me, we face monsters on a daily basis. But you? You work with white-collar crimes, go to grad school. Nothing too dangerous about that."

Neal didn't attempt to dissuade him. No point in trying to explain about Keller, Azathoth, or Ydrus. Neal knew that much of the appeal of Fiona was a yearning for her world, but he also suspected that eventually he would have found it boring. They were right to split up although that realization wasn't much of a comfort. Sometimes he felt like he'd been evicted from Camelot.

Sam was continuing to muse about Maia. "It's not fair for me to entangle her into what I'm doing."

"You're using the same arguments I used with Peter when I tried to rationalize that Fiona wasn't right for me. For what it's worth, here's his response. You've got to be open about who you are unless all you're interested in is a one-night stand."

Maia probably represented that same safe world that Fiona did for him. He hoped Sam would have better luck. Sam the poet. Who would have thought?

They stood up and joined the others to scan the skies for shooting stars. Neal appreciated Sam confiding in him about what had happened and he wouldn't betray the confidence. If Sam wanted to expose his sensitive side to Dean, he'd have to be the one to do it.

Bobby was sprawled in a folding lounge chair. He'd brought along a thermos and poured liquid into a mug, but from the looks of it that wasn't coffee he was drinking.

Travis and Mozzie came back outside with the latest bulletin from SETI. "NASA has been training the Hubble telescope on the pulsar-like objects," Travis said, "but hasn't been able to come up with an image. Scientists are baffled. Nothing could move that fast. At that distance we should be able to see something, but we only have the radio wave transmission."

"They're continuing to move straight toward us," Mozzie added. "Straight from the mouth of the dragon." He pointed up at the sky.

Travis passed around binoculars to everyone. He'd also set up an eight-inch telescope to use. While Travis readied the scope, Dean passed out machetes. Bobby had brought extras with him. Neal stood up and practiced a few swings. The balance wasn't bad. He noticed Peter eyeing him. They hadn't discussed it, but Neal felt he was ready.

Binoculars in hand, machetes beside them, they all settled down to watch and wait. With no vampires immediately raining down on their heads, they passed the time questioning Dean and Sam about the bonfire ceremony.

"The blaze was impressive," Dean admitted. "They probably had close to a hundred people there. Sam and I patrolled during the event, but nothing dangerous occurred, unless you count Chloe's druid costume which was setting off sparks of a different sort."

"They had a group of women playing medieval folk music," Sam said. "Maia said they were members of the Pompadours coven."

"One song made me wonder," Dean added. "It was about bonfires at midnight. The Pompadours apparently have made it their theme song. It references the Pleiades, book of secrets, and magic, but it's all harmless stuff."

"Did you talk with El?" Peter asked.

Sam nodded. "She was with Janet. She asked me to tell you not to worry. She and Janet were going straight back to the inn and would stay inside. Electra and Maia had joined them for the bonfire. Janet said she'd be with El in your room till you get back."

Thanking him for the update, Peter said, "Cell phone reception in the park is problematic. When I tried to call her, I couldn't get a signal. I used the landline in the observatory to leave her a message."

Dean grunted acknowledgment. "We've had the same problem. Sam and I used two-way radios to check with Bobby. Chloe planned to stay at the bonfire with the organizers. She said if anything suspicious happens, she'll drive over to let us know."

"I've alerted park security," Peter said. "I told them that we'd heard rumors of possible gang activity. The park is closed for the night unless you have a special permit. There were rangers at the bonfire. They know to contact us if anyone tries to come in but I also alerted them to not attempt to stop them."

All things considered, the night's stakeout was one of the most entertaining Neal had ever been on. They lay on mats or on loungers, keeping an eye on the heavens and on the constellation of Draco in particular. Travis and Peter took turns manning the telescope. After Travis enlightened them about pulsars, Bobby and Dean told them about other vampire jobs they'd had.

Mozzie expounded on his alien slime theory. Surprisingly Bobby took it quite seriously. Emboldened by a fellow believer, Mozzie soon switched from extraterrestrials to Hitler clones. Neal thought he'd be laughed out of the park for that, but again he was proved wrong. Dean and Sam also seemed to view paranormal encounters with Nazis a distinct possibility. Was there anything they didn't believe could happen?

About two hours into the watch, Travis lifted his head from the telescope eyepiece to shout, "Guys, I see something! A meteor shower is coming from the head of the dragon." Everyone rushed over to view it through the telescope. The time was 11:35. No one was able to observe the shower with binoculars but when Neal looked through the telescope, he could see faint streaks like the meteor trails he'd seen online. Travis raced into the observatory to report the event to SETI, ordering them to take careful notes while he was gone. No need to remind them.

By 11:45 they could see the meteors in their binoculars. They were almost directly overhead. Neal felt his heart race. He didn't know what he expected to happen. Fireballs? Vampires dropping out of the sky with flaming parachutes?

Dean was in full warrior mode, repeating all his warnings about vampires. Bobby and Sam were trying to contact other hunters with only partial success. Their calls were constantly dropping.

"They're coming," Mozzie murmured, an awe-struck expression on his face. Everyone was standing up in tense anticipation.

Soon binoculars were no longer needed. The meteors had transformed into bright balls of fire and began to form tails.

"I count thirteen," Peter called out.

Travis came back outside. "SETI's aware and has alerted NORAD. Planes have left the regional base in Florida and are en route."

"They'll never make it in time," Peter warned. "Look at the lengths of those tails. They'll burn up in earth's atmosphere."

"It's an incredible sight," Sam said, gazing up at the sky, "but how can these fireballs have anything to do with vampires?"

"I don't know about vampires, but there's no known meteor shower at this time of year coming from Draco," Travis said. "It could be a rogue meteor that has previously escaped detection and has broken into fragments, but that doesn't equate with the emissions we were receiving from a deep space object. It's simply not possible to explain by any known law of physics that the two phenomena have a connection."

"Yes, there is," Mozzie retorted. "Extraterrestrials from outer space. The only question is if they're friendly or hostile?"

Although Mozzie was convinced that space aliens were coming, everyone else was more concerned about pure-blood vampires. As they continued to watch the fireballs, Mozzie regaled them with the plots of two of his favorite alien vampire movies: _Lifeforce_ and _Teenage Space Vampires_.

The fireballs were heading straight for them, growing larger and larger . . . .

Till they blinked out. Literally.

The fireballs looked like they were going to descend right upon their heads then simply _poofed_ out of view. Neal looked around at the others, baffled. "What just happened?"

Travis looked as confused as he felt. "They appeared so close . . . To disintegrate in the atmosphere so quickly doesn't seem possible."

Peter checked his watch. "It's just after midnight. That part of the legend apparently was accurate."

"No fireballs crashing to earth means no vampire fires to put out," Dean noted. "We should consider ourselves lucky." He twirled his machete and set it down. "What do you think, Bobby?"

"I don't like it," he grumbled. "The time's right. Was this location a decoy? Did the vamp mislead us and the meeting site was actually somewhere else? I'm going inside to call around on the landline. Maybe other hunters saw something."

Travis continued to scan the sky with his telescope. When nothing else appeared, he went inside to report to SETI. Peter pulled Sam and Dean aside. Neal could hear them talk about patrolling the park by car.

Mozzie was standing with his back to the others, gazing over the meadow. Neal went over to join him. "See any vampires?"

"No, but the fireflies are even more numerous than last night." He pointed to the edge of the woods.

Mozzie was right. Neal had never seen so many. It made him want to paint them—luminous points of light against the backdrop of the dark forest.

Mozzie stared enraptured at them. "The meteors may have been spaceships after all. When they landed, the aliens transformed themselves into fireflies."

Neal turned to stare at him. Was he serious? He appeared to be. "Don't you think that's a bit of a stretch?" Neal asked, trying to put a tactful spin on it.

"Not any more bizarre than meteors turning into vampires. I must inform Travis."

Neal put a hand on his shoulder. "You may want to hold off a little. We should help patrol."

"No," he said emphatically, shaking off his hand. "I intend to check out those fireflies. This could be first contact."

"Are you two coming?" Peter called out.

Neal shook his head. "I'll stay with Mozzie. He wants to commune with the fireflies."

Dean dismissed the idea with a wave. "Figures."

"Don't wander off too far," Peter warned.

"I won't let him," Neal promised. "We're just going to the edge of the woods. I'll take Satchmo." The fact he picked up a machete wasn't lost on Peter, who was eyeing him worriedly.

"I'll stay with them," Sam offered.

Dean looked at Peter and shrugged. "All right, it's you and me on vamp duty again. Sam and I have walkie-talkies that Bobby brought. They're nothing fancy but they work. Since we didn't see any of the meteors crash and there's no fire, I doubt we'll find anything. I'm calling this anistemi a dud, and that's a good thing."

Mozzie was already heading down the path that ran through the meadow to the trees.

"Hey, Mozzie," Sam called out. "How will you know if aliens are residing within fireflies? Will you try to catch any?"

The suggestion caused Mozzie to stop horrified in his tracks. "Have first contact be incarceration within a Mason jar? Are you trying to start an interstellar war? No, we'll try to communicate with them, identify ourselves, and extend the hand of friendship."

"How do you plan to shake the hand of a firefly?" Neal asked, but Mozzie ignored his eminently reasonable question.

"He's pulling our leg, right?" Sam muttered to Neal.

"I don't think so. The fireflies are unusually numerous. If they start to fly in battle formation, I'm heading back." Both he and Sam were keeping a firm grip on their machetes.

As they approached the edge of the woods, Neal's vampire sensors cranked up to full alert status. Out in the open, they could spot vampires. Even if they did move at preternatural speed, they had a chance to escape. But in the woods? If one was lurking behind a tree, it could be on them before they'd have a chance to react. Sam said vampires didn't usually attack a group of people but singled out their victims. But these weren't normal vampires. They were pure-bloods. Could they be killed like the homegrown variety?

They were using red LED astronomy flashlights which preserved night vision. Neal glanced over at Mozzie. He didn't appear scared. Instead, he was striding forward with a smile of anticipation at first contact with the alien fireflies. Was he practicing extraterrestrial Esperanto in his head?

Sam's gaze from flitting from tree to tree. Plainly he wasn't thinking about fireflies.

"Watch out for snakes," Neal cautioned. "Peter said that the rangers have posted rattlesnake sightings in this section of the park."

Sam swallowed. "I'll handle the vampires. You're on snake patrol."

"Deal. We'll leave E.T to Mozzie."

They were now close to the woods. The fireflies were thick in front of the trees. Mozzie had trotted ahead, leaving the path to approach the insects. He wouldn't be able to see any snakes in the grass. For that matter how was Neal supposed to know if snakes were around? This was a lousy idea. As soon as Mozzie had his moment with the bugs, Neal would insist they head back to the observatory.

Mozzie bent over a patch of fireflies. Was he trying to communicate with them? Suddenly he stiffened, a look of amazement on his face. Neal gripped his machete even tighter. "What is it?"

"Vampire?" Sam asked in an urgent whisper.

Mozzie shook his head slowly. "Unclear. I just caught a glimpse. It was large and heavyset. Maybe six feet tall. Could a firefly have grown that tall? This is not at all what I expected."

"Sounds like a vamp," Sam said. "When he saw there were three of us, he took off."

Neal peered into the woods but didn't see anything. They cautiously moved toward the trees. Neal heard a low rumble and the next thing he knew, Mozzie was running faster than he'd dreamed possible.

"Flee for the hills!" he yelled.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

"It was the biggest bear I'd ever seen in my life," Sam acknowledged. "So much for space aliens."

They'd convened in the classroom. Peter and Dean had returned from their patrol with no vampires to report.

"It reared up on its hind legs, intending to carry me off as his dinner," Mozzie said, looking inordinately pleased to be considered bear fodder.

Peter nodded at Neal. "That makes two encounters for you now."

"I must be entitled to a bear merit badge. What's next? Wolves?"

"There's no evidence of meteor showers causing radio transmissions such as we detected," said Travis. "We suspect the two incidents are unrelated."

Bobby entered the classroom. "I just got off the phone with a hunter in Rockaway Township. That's about thirty minutes from here. He found a victim of a vampire attack. Looks like the park may have been a misdirect."

Dean and Sam left with Bobby to look into the vampire attack. Mozzie and Travis returned to the radio room. Peter headed back to the inn.

It had been a false alarm. The next day they could all relax and enjoy the last day with the kids. Janet, El, and Chloe planned to spend the morning hiking in the park. Neal went to bed still smiling over that bear. And Peter hadn't teased him once about any bear tendencies of his own. Not a bad ending.

* * *

 ** _Notes_** _: Not so fast, Neal. You're not in the clear yet. Coming next week is Chapter 5: Vampires at Midnight. Uh-oh._

 _Neal's first encounter with a bear was in Chapter 18 of The Dreamer. In canon, Dean and Sam will encounter Nazis in Season 8. The crystal ball is murky about whether any Nazis will pop up in this series, but Mozzie remains vigilant._

 _It's not a totally insane idea that Sam wrote poetry as a kid. In "After School Special" (Season 4, Episode 13) he has a flashback of a school experience when he was 12 and a teacher praised the excellence of his writing. The teacher advised Sam to decide for himself what he wanted to do with his life instead of letting his family dictate it for him. Sam eventually chose the family business, but continues to have doubts._

 _I've been playing with fire in this story and that's the subject of this week's blog post._

 ** _Blog_** _: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation_ _  
 **Chapter Visuals and Music** : The Fireflies at Midnight board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website_ _  
New pins include visuals for the festival, the evening's activities, and the song "Fires at Midnight"_


	5. Vampires at Midnight

**Chapter 5: Vampires at Midnight**

 **Parking Lot at the Inn. June 22, 2005. Wednesday midday.**

Dean slung Chloe's suitcase onto the back seat of her Mustang. "Where are you off to now?"

"New Haven," she said, slamming the trunk shut. "I expect to be there writing the user guide for another three to four weeks."

"Will you stay the entire time at Wisteria's inn?"

She nodded. "I found her through the B&B association, but since we're Wiccan sisters now it's become a second home." She approached him and fingered the buttons on his shirt. "Her chef really is an excellent pie maker. You should stop by." She shrugged. "For pie and other stuff."

"That other stuff sounds even more tempting than pie. We'll probably stay in the Northeast for a while. It depends on what happens with the vamps. We didn't find any in Rockaway, but Sam heard from Bobby that there may be a nest off the interstate in Dover."

"I spotted Sam having lunch with Maia when we went upstairs. They seem to be hitting it off."

Dean had seen them as well—two geeks making goo-goo eyes at each other. No vampires. Sam rejoining the human race. Yep, he'd chalk this week up as one of the better ones he'd had in quite a while.

"That will give you another reason to visit New Haven," Chloe said. "Maia's researching her thesis at Yale this summer. I heard her mention she'll teach an introductory class there in the fall."

"She and Sam can spend long hours together with their books. Have study dates."

"Exactly. Just like the way you're helping me with the scenes for my novel."

He drew her close. "We should schedule another session soon."

Sam was waiting in the Impala and Chloe needed to be on her way, but they lingered in the clinch. How had he been so lucky to find a woman who wasn't interested in commitments? No strings. No pressure. But when they were together, the earthquake he felt was almost supernatural. Would Maia be as good for Sam? He hoped so. Then Sam might relax and be more open with him. As it was, he was a hard dude to read. Were all kid brothers that way? Shutting their older and wiser siblings out? When would Sam learn that if he wanted Dean to stop worrying about him, he should simply let him in? It wasn't like Dean was bossy . . . much. Well, he sorta was. But it was for Sam's own good.

Chloe drew back. "What is it?"

"Sorry. Trying to figure out what's going on in Sam's head is messing with mine. Brothers can drive you nuts. Do you have any sisters?"

"No. I wish I did." Chloe looked at him with big serious eyes. "Sam and you are very lucky to have each other. He knows that."

"And leaving me in the dark is his way of showing his appreciation?"

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Neal crouched next to Satchmo and adjusted his astronomy bandanna. "So you're abandoning me for a picnic? It's a good thing you were such an excellent model for the past two days. I suppose I can let you take an afternoon off."

El had stopped by the observatory in time to help them clean up from the morning session. She was back from a nature hike with Chloe and Janet. They'd found some unusual flowers in a meadow she wanted Peter to look at. She'd packed a lunch and tried to persuade Neal to come along, but he had a painting to finish. Satchmo, on the other hand, deserved a reward.

After a morning surrounded by kids, Neal looked forward to some alone time. The observatory was quiet. Mozzie had a new obsession. The legends about Astrena had already sprouted seeds in the fertile soil of his imagination, and he was determined to discover more about her. Travis was still immersed in analyzing the peculiar radio waves which had now vanished from SETI's monitors.

Neal gathered up his art supplies and loaded up Travis's car for the trip to the meadow. His last day to channel Monet. If Peter returned next year, he wouldn't mind coming along, even if there weren't any bears.

A couple of hours into his painting, he stopped to study it. It was decision time. Was it done? He hadn't intended to copy Monet's style so closely, but the master's s influence was flooding through the painting. It was too derivative to be shown to his professors at Columbia, but he liked it.

He sprawled on the grass next to the tree and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler. It was shady and cool. He hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night . . .

He was wakened by a rustling of grass. Squinting in the bright sunshine which was now in his face, he saw a woman strolling through the meadow toward him. She wore a long flowing dress. A broad straw hat shaded her face. Her golden hair fell loose over her shoulders. Neal blinked and rubbed his eyes. He must have been dreaming of Monet. She seemed like she'd stepped out of the nineteenth century, or was he the one who'd traveled back?

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" Electra's voice, cultured and sultry, made him want to dust off his jeans. He wished he'd worn a better shirt.

"Not at all," he said, standing up. "I'm surprised to see you. I thought the festival was over."

"It is. Maia and I haven't had the time to enjoy the park. We decided to postpone our departure till tomorrow." She walked over to his easel. "May I?"

"Of course."

As she studied the painting, she questioned him on his technique and what he was trying to capture in the painting. Neal was surprised at her expertise. She could have been one of his professors at Columbia. He'd studied Monet, but she related anecdotes about the Impressionist master that Neal had never heard. It was as if she'd known him personally.

He offered her a bottle of chilled water, regretting he didn't have a bottle of wine instead. Water didn't seem appropriate for someone so refined. From Monet, they moved on to a discussion of Renoir and Manet.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

"What do you think, Peter? Isn't it one of the most beautiful flowers you've ever seen?" El pointed to a patch of flame red orchids growing on top of a log. "Chloe's an expert on wildflowers and she'd never seen anything like them in New Jersey. They're called fire orchids." She turned to Satchmo. "No sniffing, Satch. They're not a toy."

El was right. The center of the orchid looked like a mask. He studied it more closely. What was that? A cat? No it was too angular and human-looking. He moved his head to one side then another. Now that was weird.

"What are you doing?" El asked.

Peter continued to stare at the face. "Come stand next to me. Does the orchid look like a vampire to you? I can see its fangs. And not only that, it appears to follow me with its eyes."

"You're not serious, are you?"

"You try it," he challenged, even as he felt a little ridiculous for even suggesting it.

El imitated his actions, concentrating on the flower. "I thing I see what you mean. The eyes in the center have the _Mona Lisa_ effect. But the face looks more like a Chinese sage to me."

Peter laughed at himself. He was starting to see vampires wherever he looked. Good thing Neal wasn't with them. He already had plenty of subjects to tease Peter about.

The orchids were growing at the border between the meadow and the woods, close to the location where Mozzie had seen all the fireflies. "Remember I told you last night Mozzie thought space aliens were inside fireflies? Maybe they transformed into orchids instead."

El gave a laugh. "We better not tell him. He'll either want to pick them or demand they take him to their leader. Chloe and Janet have been leading field trips all over the park and this is the only stand they've discovered. In fact, Janet swears she walked by this same spot yesterday while looking for butterflies and they weren't here. I bet she was so focused butterflies, she overlooked them."

"Do Janet and Chloe have any theories on how the orchids got here?"

"Since the orchids are native to Southeast Asia, Chloe suspects someone planted them, possibly as a memorial to a pet that was buried in the park. The practice is illegal, of course, but you know that doesn't some from doing it."

"You called them fire orchids. Perhaps someone planted them in honor of the Litha bonfire."

"I hadn't thought of that, but it does sound likely. I have Chloe's email address. I should write her. One of the Wiccans could have planted them a month ago when they heard about the upcoming festival. Chloe told me many members are expert herbalists and botanists."

"For spell-casting and potion-brewing?"

"I suppose so."

Peter heaved a heartfelt sigh. "I hope they don't encourage Chloe."

El put an arm around him. "I'm sure you're safe. Still, one can never be too careful. She told me how she's a descendant of a Salem witch. I'll ask her to leave you out of any spells she casts."

"Have your fun. Just wait till she turns _you_ into a dork." Peter stood up. "We're not far from the meadow where Neal's been painting. Let's go visit him."

The trail skirted the edge of the woods. When they rounded the bend to the meadow, El stopped and shielded her eyes. "I can see Travis's car. Neal must still be there."

As they approached the large sugar maple where Neal had set up his outdoor studio, Peter noticed he wasn't alone. "Who's the woman with him?"

El paused for a moment to study her. "I think that may be Electra."

They were sitting on a bench under the tree. "I'm glad Neal has some company. Don't be jealous, Satchmo." When El didn't say anything, Peter turned to look at her. "Why the frown? Is there a problem?"

She winced, looking embarrassed. "Don't mind me."

"What is it, hon?"

"That's just it. I don't know," she said, shrugging in frustration. "But you know how your gut clues you into things without you knowing why? For me, it's my heart, and there's something about seeing Neal and Electra together that bothers me."

"You mentioned that before. You called her a cougar with her eyes set on Neal. But after you met her, you said you found her charming. Which is it?"

"Can it be both? I do like her, just not around Neal."

"Neal's no stranger to women being attracted to him. He can take care of himself."

"I know that." She shook her head as if to get rid of the negative vibes. "I'm probably being oversensitive because of what happened with Fiona."

"It's understandable. Neal's been unlucky in love, but I don't see Electra as being his type."

"You don't think she'll bring out the white knight in him?" Neal had spotted them and waved. "Let's see how our Sir Gawain is doing."

As they approached, Neal and Electra rose to greet them. Her smile was warm and friendly. Peter trusted El's instincts, but in this case he was inclined to agree she was being overly protective. He had a difficult time casting Electra as a cougar about to pounce on Neal and drag him into her lair.

"I noticed Neal painting and couldn't resist stopping to chat. We've had a delightful conversation discussing the French impressionists."

"Hey, Satchmo, what's wrong?" Neal bent down to stroke the Lab. Satchmo was normally friendly, if anything too friendly with strangers, but not this time. He was making low growls and had his ears back. He looked close to snarling.

"I apologize for our dog," Peter said quickly. "He won't hurt you."

Electra didn't appear to be bothered. "He probably smells Daphne on me. She's my Siamese cat. I didn't bring her, but you know how it is. When you have a pet, their scent and stray hairs are a constant reminder. I don't want to distress your dog. Satchmo is such a charming name." She smiled down at him, but it was plain Satchmo wasn't buying it. Turning to Neal, she added, "Don't forget your promise to show me more of your paintings. I'll contact you the next time I make a trip to New York." Electra headed back along the meadow trail.

"You plan to see her again?" El asked. Both she and Satchmo were keeping a careful watch on Electra.

Neal shrugged. "Perhaps. She has a friend who owns a gallery in SoHo. Electra thought he might be interested in displaying a couple of my works."

"I think she was fascinated in you as well as your art," El couldn't resist adding.

Neal blew off her comment with a shake of his head. "I wonder what got into Satchmo. He's generally friendly with everyone."

"He may have been mirroring his mistress's opinion," Peter said.

El frowned. "I didn't say I _disliked_ her."

"What _did_ you say?" Neal asked.

She groaned. "She has a way of looking at you that seems a little predatory to me."

"Specifically, like a cougar," Peter interjected. "You could put her at ease by telling her Electra didn't make a pass at you."

"She didn't"—he paused for a moment and grinned—"unless you consider her offer to pose in the nude a play for my attention."

"She suggested that?" asked El, her eyes widening.

His grin broadened. "She was teasing me. At least that's the way I took it. You know the work by Manet, _Luncheon on the Grass_? We were discussing the technique of painting outdoors and some famous examples. It was in that context she made her remark. You have no need to be concerned about Electra. I have no intention of asking her to be my model."

"See, hon. You and Satchmo can relax." Peter turned to Neal. "Are you going to let us see your masterpiece as well?"

"Of course. I'd like your opinion. Was my experiment in outdoor painting a success?"

As if there were any question. Neal had depicted himself painting the scene on canvas while Satchmo sprawled among the wildflowers.

El was ecstatic in her reaction. "Are you going to take it to Columbia?"

He shook his head. "My professors would have my head for being too derivative. It's yours if you'd like it."

"My own Caffrey Monet? I'd love it!" El exclaimed, giving him a hug.

They helped Neal pack up his paint supplies, and he gave them a lift back to the observatory in Travis's car. During the short drive, Neal asked if there'd been any word about vampires.

Peter explained about Dean's news. "They found a nest but the vampires were away. They were able to rescue a woman who was being held captive and took her to a hospital."

"Will you need to talk with the police?"

"Sam had already contacted them about her. How she'll explain her injury, I don't know. Since it's not a federal matter, I don't need to be involved. Bobby is hearing more and more reports. The latest was of a nest in Easton, south of the park. They plan to check it out this afternoon."

According to what they'd learned, the vampires should have taken off with their pure-blood princes. Why were they still hanging around? Had they been overly confident in assuming the ancient tales of an anistemi were correct? When Peter asked Dean about it, he didn't have any good answer. Peter knew Dean and Sam were working it, but his gut wasn't happy. And it wasn't because of Electra.

 **Gemma's Guest Cottage at the Inn. Wednesday afternoon.**

"You're being quiet," said Gemma, watching Electra with amusement. "Won't you describe your encounter with your new toy? How did he react?"

Electra gave a mysterious smile. When Maia saw that look, she knew Electra would divulge nothing. Her sister constantly warned Maia about not visiting Sam too often, but did Electra exercise any restraint with Neal? Maia strongly doubted it. She'd seen that same look in the antique store. Electra was plotting something.

Electra reclined back on the couch, fingering her hair. "I've adopted Maia's strategy—the game of flirtation. It has a certain charm, this art of love. We can feed at any time, but where's the challenge? This will prolong our pleasure before the inevitable."

"And what if he resists your formidable skills?" said Gemma skeptically. "You won't use your powers at all?"

Electra smiled slyly. "I never said I wouldn't cheat a little."

The space in the center of the room began to shimmer. When it had coalesced into the demon Crowley, he dusted off his black suit and gave a slight bow. "Ladies, how may I assist?"

"Are the thralls in place?" Electra asked.

"Of course, Astrena, my queen. They all have their instructions. As soon as your flower children assume their true forms, they'll be escorted to safety."

"Flower children?" Electra smiled with delight. "Is that your term for them? How appropriate." Her expression grew stern. "I've heard reports of thralls being captured or killed."

Crowley dismissed the accusation with a shrug. "The unavoidable consequences of the low classes we're forced to deal with. I assure you all will go smoothly this evening."

"For your sake, it better," Gemma warned. Her deep voice commanded respect. Maia wished she could make her own voice sultrier. But then Sam preferred the gentle touch. Perhaps it was for the best.

"No attention must be drawn to the pure-bloods," Electra warned.

Crowley bowed. "I've given the vampires their orders. The safe houses are already arranged."

"Did you purchase the estate in Shepherdstown for Lutar?" Among the pure-bloods, Electra had taken a particular interest in him. Maia didn't want to see what she'd be like if any harm befell him.

"The mansion is ready to receive its new owner, and the honor guard is ready. The thralls will move into position in the park before it closes and await the ceremony."

"And don't draw any attention to yourself either," warned Electra sternly. "It wouldn't do for the FBI to know that the man they call the Dutchman is being seen in town. The Burkes are staying in this inn. Hunters are also around."

"Those denim-wrapped Forrest Gumps?" He snorted in derision. "They're hardly worth my bother. My associates tell me Moose and Squirrel are here as well."

"Stop speaking in riddles," Gemma chided him. "Who are you talking about?"

"The two hunters who invaded Alcyone's house," he explained. "They tried to stop my transformation, as if they could. Sam, the one Maia has taken such a fancy for, is tall enough to be a moose. And where there's Bullwinkle, Rocky the Flying Squirrel can't be far off." Crowley cast an appraising glance at Maia. "You'll need a ladder to mount your chosen one, my dear."

Maia squeezed her fist, making Crowley clutch his throat and sink to his knees. "You forget your place," she said in silken soft tones. "Sam is not meant for the likes of you."

Gemma raised a brow. "Maia, my love. I had no idea you were so smitten."

She relaxed her fist and released him.

Crowley stood up, coughed, and rubbed his throat. "Always a pleasure, my radiant ones." With a final bow, he snapped his fingers and vanished.

 **On the Road. Wednesday evening.**

Dean took his eyes briefly off the dark country road to shoot a glance at Sam. "Still no luck?"

"Just voicemail. At this hour they're probably outside stargazing with the kids. I can't tell if the signal's not getting through or they're too busy to respond."

"Keep trying. We're still over a half-hour away." Dean pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The Stones' song "Play with Fire" kept running through his head. He should have shut down the camp when Peter asked about it. They'd all been playing with fire and if they didn't get through to the observatory in time, those kids would get burnt.

"At least we could reach Bobby," Sam reminded him. "He's heading for the park and will spread the warning."

"I hope he brings hunters with him. If what the vampire said is true, we'll need all the help we can get." Sam grabbed the hand grip on the door as Dean swung through a curve at three times the posted speed. Luckily the backroad they were on was deserted.

They'd hit pay dirt in Easton. One of the vamps got away but the other they managed to capture alive. She was a sad case. Only recently turned and hating what she'd become. Lacey. What a name for a vampire. Just eighteen years old. She looked like she'd been a sweet kid, but they were powerless to remove the curse. Her pleas to be killed didn't make the job any easier.

Lacey said that the vampires were gathering to escort their new masters to safety. Supposedly they were being created tonight in a ritual that Astrena had begun the previous day. That name again. Lacey called her the queen of the vampires and explained that the pure-bloods were her children. The leader of Lacey's pack was being very closemouthed about their exact rendezvous location but had told Lacey it was in a state park near Hope. The only park in that area was Jenny Jump.

They'd pressed her for details of how many pure-bloods were being created but she didn't have any. All she knew was that the new princes were going to usher in a new order of control and power. Great. As if they didn't have enough demons already to contend with. Now they were faced with a super-race of vampires. The final ritual was taking place tonight.

"You think Astrena is real?" Sam asked.

"Lacey thought so, but I'd say the jury's still out. It could be someone who's heard of the legend and is now profiting off it."

"Mozzie may be able to dig up something more about her. He's something else," Sam added with a smile. "Bobby may have met his match."

"He reminds me a lot of Bobby. A one-stop shop for research, fake IDs, you name it. I wonder if he has a phone bank for various aliases like Bobby does."

"Nothing would surprise me," Sam said, checking his map. "He already claims to have leads on some ancient Greek manuscripts. They're not available online, but he's promised to look into them when he's back in New York . . . Watch it!"

Dean abruptly swerved, narrowly missing a tree. "What was that? All I saw was a pair of glowing eyes."

Sam had turned his head to look. "You nearly creamed Bambi's father."

"Damn," Dean muttered, ratcheting his speed down. Killing a deer wouldn't help anyone, least of all Bambi. "Lacey said the ritual was taking place somewhere out in the open, near where the seeds of the pure-bloods were planted last night. Any ideas on what that could mean?" They'd drawn a blank when they asked her what kind of seeds. All she knew was that was the term the pack leader used. Did Astrena grow vampires like zinnias?

"It may have something to do with those shooting stars we saw last night," Sam speculated. "Travis said he counted thirteen coming down, but so far there are no reports of any meteor craters."

"I don't like it," Dean muttered. "Those shooting stars looked like they were making a bead straight for us. That puts those kids at ground zero. Try to get Peter again." He pressed his foot back down on the accelerator.

 **Ghost Lake, Jenny Jump State Forest. Wednesday evening.**

Maia glanced over at her sisters. They'd all dressed in medieval gowns for the ritual. Gemma had voted for togas, but Electra preferred the elegance of velvet, and Maia applauded the choice. Gemma was in emerald and Maia wore her favorite amethyst gown. Usually Electra wore garnet red, but tonight she was in sapphire blue. She'd commented that was to be her new color.

They'd teleported to the banks of Ghost Lake. The stars sparkled in the night sky, reflecting like jewels on the surface of the lake. Vega shone bright in the eastern sky as it rose over the trees. It was time.

Gently blowing on an ancient oak stump which would serve as their altar, Electra placed the crystal basin on the center of the stump. The sisters formed a circle while the scent of herbs in the bubbling infusion wafted upward in the night air. Maia began strumming her lyre while softly chanting in Greek.

Reaching into her gold mesh bag, Gemma withdrew several silk pouches of flower petals. Casting a pinch from each pouch into the brew, she added her voice to Maia's. Electra joined them for the last verse. Their voices blended and swirled high above the treetops toward Vega.

As Maia sang, she pictured the fire orchids growing larger, metamorphosing into their new bodies. The thralls would have gathered, ready to lead them off—thirteen pure-blood princes to rule them and establish new dominions.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

"Here, let me clean you up." Peter pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the chocolate chip smears off Hannah's face. She beamed at him and scampered off to join her best friend Amita.

So many excited kids. They'd started camp early that night with special snacks which El and Janet had prepared—lunar phase sandwiches, solar system fruit kebabs, and meteorite Krispies. The constellations cookies were Peter's favorite, and clearly Hannah's as well. Each giant cookie was decorated with chocolate chips representing the stars of one of the constellations. He and El had worked on those the week before. It was enough of a reason in itself to have camp again.

On this final night they'd also distributed to the kids their very own space alien antennae to take home as Mozzie passed out certificates proclaiming them to be children of stardust. Travis had worn his Spock makeup and Vulcan uniform for the occasion and all the kids wanted their pictures taken with him.

Despite the earlier threats of vampires, nothing had marred camp. Mozzie and Neal were naturals with little ones. Neal always had a touch of Peter Pan about him, but this week he'd left nothing on the table. As for Mozzie, in Peter's view he never had grown up.

At the moment, Neal was lying flat on his back gazing up at the stars, as the youngest kids took turns relating the stories they'd made up about the constellations. Janet was helping him while the older ones worked with Peter and Travis at the telescopes. Mozzie was a floater, sprinkling alien dust wherever he landed. In another hour, astro camp would be a wrap.

"You did good, hon," said El, walking up to him. Never had anyone looked so lovely in an astro camp t-shirt.

"We survived and may have actually inspired a few future astronomers." The rush of happiness that came with the conclusion of a successful op was apparently equally valid for astro camps.

"I overheard Ethan asking Neal to enroll him in next summer's camp. You interested?"

"It's a possibility, if I can get the rest of my crew to join me."

"You know you can count on me, and I bet Neal and Mozzie won't be hard to persuade either."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

"Hey, Ethan, where are you going? The telescope demo's about to start." Neal had spotted his mini-pirate near the observatory building. The little boy was starting to run toward the meadow.

Ethan ignored him and took off at a dash. Neal sprinted forward and caught him.

"Let me go!" Ethan yelled, struggling to break free.

Neal tightened his hold on him. Ethan wasn't going anywhere under his watch. "This isn't like you. Is something wrong?"

Ethan's big eyes looked pleadingly at him. "Amita's gone to look for fireflies."

"By herself?" Neal groaned inwardly. "Are you sure? Do you know where she went?"

He nodded forcefully. "Hannah told me Amita wanted to see them. They'd heard Mozzie describe the fireflies he'd seen when he found the bear. I looked for her and saw her running through the meadow. I want to go, too!"

"When was this?" Neal demanded.

"Only a few minutes ago. If we hurry we can catch her!"

Neal glanced around. The adults were all busy with campers. He couldn't take a chance of not being able to find Amita. He had his flashlight with him—all the adults wore flashlights attached to lanyards. He switched it on. "Okay, you and me, Captain Jack. We'll find her together."

Mozzie's meadow was north of the camp. As Neal and Ethan ran along the path, Neal caught a glimpse in the distance of Amita's phosphorescent antennae and began to breathe easier. If she hadn't been wearing the headgear, he never would have spotted her. As it was, they were up to the edge of the woods before they caught up with her.

If a bear had been around, she would have been easy prey. Neal swallowed. It'd been a close thing. He vowed then and there to never have kids of his own. The responsibility was overwhelming.

He'd tried several times to call Peter, but was unable to get a signal. Perhaps that was for the best, as Peter would probably have freaked out. They'd be back before he knew they were gone.

"Hi, Amita! Did you find any fireflies?" Ethan was happily chattering with her as if nothing was wrong.

Neal crouched down with the kids. "Amita, did you forget you're not supposed to wander off on your own? It's not safe. There could be bears or snakes around."

"I'm not scared!" she said, indignant at the suggestion. "I've seen bears in the zoo. They look just like my teddy bear. They wouldn't hurt me. And my teacher taught me all about snakes. I think they're wonderful."

Amita might not be a future astronomer, but she was well on her way to becoming the next Jack Hanna. "Yeah, but they might be afraid of you and think you were trying to hurt them. We'll talk about this some more when we get back to camp."

Standing up, he admonished them to stay close and they started back down the trail. Amita was excited because she'd seen a patch of fireflies—

 _What was that?_

Neal stopped short and turned off his flashlight. "Shhh! Not a sound!" he whispered urgently.

Heading straight toward them at the far end of the meadow were five shadowy shapes moving at preternatural speed.

Vampires.

Nobody else could move that fast. He'd seen them first-hand in the swamp outside Buttonwood. That time he'd been with Sam. Now he had two seven-year-olds to keep safe.

He and the kids were close enough to the woods that the vamps might not have spotted them. But if they continued on the trail back to the observatory, they'd be easy targets.

He switched off his flashlight and whipped off the kids' antennae, stashing them under his shirt. There was no time to waste. Once the vamps caught their scent, they'd be on them in an instant. He'd save panic for later.

Ethan started to speak, but Neal put a hand to his mouth. He knelt down and grabbing each kid by a hand, pulled them toward him. "Bad guys are in the meadow," he whispered. "We have to hide. If we're quiet—as quiet as butterflies—they won't find us. Can you do that?" Their little faces nodded earnestly. Amita spread out her free arm like a butterfly. He smiled his approval and led them toward the trees.

Their only chance to escape was the forest. In the meadow they'd never be able to outrun vampires, but in dense trees, they had a chance, or at least he hoped so. He knew where to head. If they could only make it in time.

The others should notice their absence soon. They'd be able to find them by his GPS coordinates. Both he and Peter wore GPS watches because of earlier threats against them.

But would a GPS signal get through? Their cell phones didn't work. In the woods, among the trees . . . He couldn't count on a quick rescue.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Peter's cell phone rang as they were rotating the telescope observers. He asked Travis to take over while he took the call. It was Sam. As Peter listened, he knew there was only one thing he could do.

He called to Mozzie to take over at the telescopes, then led Travis a short distance away where the kids couldn't overhear them.

"Dean and Sam captured a vampire and got her to talk. The vampires are in the park tonight. Supposedly they're protecting the pure-bloods which have somehow arrived. We can't take any chances. Everyone needs to go inside the observatory. I'll alert the park rangers. Sam says as long as they stay in their cars they should be safe. Sam and Dean are only a few miles away. They'll be here shortly."

Rounding up sixty-five kids was no easy feat. They didn't follow orders as readily as FBI agents, and the adults didn't want to scare them by giving specifics. El and Janet were a godsend, making a game of it.

Peter called the rangers from the radio room. He could hardly warn them about vampires, but instead alerted them to dangerous gangs heading their direction. After the false alarm on the previous night, the rangers were skeptical of the threat. They were no doubt grumbling about city-slicker federal agents who overreacted at any whiff of danger. Trying to explain to them why everyone needed to stay inside without mentioning vampires was a fool's errand. Peter was rapidly acquiring a much better appreciation of the difficulties of Dean and Sam's job.

By the time he'd finished the call, all the kids were inside. Travis and Mozzie were performing head counts. Janet was getting out craft supplies. He didn't see Neal. El probably had sent him upstairs to bring down snacks.

El was talking with two of the youngest kids. She waved him over with a worried look on her face that made his stomach do flip-flops. Pulling him aside, she said in an undertone, "Ethan and Amita are missing. We've been trying to find out if anyone saw them. Hannah said Amita mentioned something about wanting to see fireflies. She'd gone inside to use the restroom but no one can remember seeing her since. Ethan's also gone now."

"Where's Neal?"

"I thought he was with you," she said, her eyes widening with dismay. "Is he missing too?"

Peter didn't answer but grabbed Travis. "Have you seen Neal?"

"Not for a half-hour or so."

A quick canvassing of Mozzie and Janet provided little additional information. Vampires in the park. Neal and two kids missing. The nightmare he'd dreaded had arrived.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

 _No reason to panic._

Amita had taken it into her head to go chasing after fireflies, despite having been warned repeatedly to never wander off on her own. Ethan was on the point of racing off to join her when Neal stopped him. Cell phone service was unavailable. And now vampires appeared in the meadow just when Neal and Ethan caught up with Amita at the edge of the woods.

Okay, Neal had permitted himself one tiny moment of panic, but that moment was past. It was up to him to fix this mess and fast.

His sense of urgency was transferred to the kids. He had one on either side of him, each gripping his hand so tightly that the blood circulation was being caught off. And he wasn't about to ask them to ease up. _No more wandering off._

Their best chance was the woods. The trees grew thick and there were plenty of brambles. Vampires wouldn't be able to maneuver as quickly. At least that's what he was counting on. He didn't think vampires could fly. Dean and Sam had never mentioned it. But pure-bloods? It was a big unknown what their abilities were.

Resolutely thrusting that unsettling thought aside, Neal focused on his plan. Never had he been so grateful for Mozzie's obsession with cave slime.

They hightailed it into the forest before Neal called a brief halt and whispered to the kids they were heading to a cave where they could hide.

"A pirates' cave?" Ethan asked excitedly.

"That's right, and we need to get there like we have wings on our feet." He looked at each one in turn. "If I go too fast, let me know and I'll carry you." He stood up and scanned the woods. Could he find Mozzie's cave again? He'd only been there once. When he'd visited it with Mozzie, it had taken them about thirty minutes, but Mozzie had ambled along, pointing out curiosities on the way. The kids were excited to race so they should make it in much less time. If they took the trail, they'd get there faster, but they'd be more exposed. If they went through the woods, one of them could trip on a log, break a leg . . .

Neal opted for the trail and prayed he'd made the right decision.

Their luck held. They arrived at the cave with no vampires and no bears. Ethan and Amita's initial fear had turned to elation over the adventure. How scared should he make them? Neal felt woefully over his head. He hoped to avoid the mention of vampires but they needed to realize this was no game.

Crawling into the low entrance was no problem with his two apprentice pirates. Neal had long ago decided if he ever made a pirates movie, Amita would be his leading lady. She was fearless. He led them to the back alcove where Mozzie had made him look for slime. The opening of the pocket was too narrow for him to squeeze into, but the kids would fit with room to spare.

He first shone his flashlight inside. The crevice was about six feet deep and stretched far enough back that a vampire couldn't grab them. Neal peered for snakes, spiders, anything scary, but it looked clear. He turned to the kids. "You'll have to keep the flashlight off when I leave. You won't be afraid?"

"Not us!" Ethan boasted. "We'll tell pirate stories."

"Can we make up our own story?" Amita asked. "I want to have fireflies in mine, and dragons, and talking snakes—"

"Great idea!" Neal said, interrupting her before she got too carried away. "I want to hear both your stories when I return. You have to promise me, if you hear someone— _anyone_ —approach the cave, you'll be absolutely quiet." He took off his watch and handed it to Ethan. "This is broadcasting a signal to Peter and Travis. They'll probably get here before me. They may already be on their way. I'll return as soon as I can, but first I need to see where the bad guys are. If they're close, I'll lead them away. If someone comes inside the cave and calls out to you, only answer if you're sure you know them. You promise?"

"Don't worry, Neal," Ethan said. "We promise." He turned to Amita. "I'll protect you. Barbossa can't get you with me here."

Amita sniffed. "I can defend myself. I'm as good a pirate as you." She turned to Neal. "Aren't there any girl pirates?"

"Of course there are. Lots of them. We'll celebrate our victory with a pirates' dance just as soon as we get back to the observatory." Neal crouched down and enveloped each one in a bear hug.

He hoisted Amita into the crevice first and gave her his flashlight to check out the space one more time. She quickly gave the all clear signal. He then lifted Ethan up to join her. The kids appeared a lot braver than he was feeling. "Do you have enough room?" he demanded anxiously.

"Plenty!" Ethan called out happily.

"This is the best adventure ever!" Amita added.

"When Peter comes, tell him I went north into the forest from the fork in the trail at the meadow."

Neal took a breath when he left the cave and with an effort focused on the vampires rather than the kids. He sprinted back toward the meadow and cautiously peered through the trees. The vampires were right at the edge of the forest, about a hundred feet from where he was standing. They'd formed a circle. Initially he'd counted five vampires and there were five in the circle, but who was that in the middle? A vampire? Naked? Was this the anistemi?

One of the vampires turned his head and looked in Neal's direction, sniffing the air.

Neal popped out from the trees just long enough for them to take a good look at him then made a mad dash back into the forest.

* * *

 ** _Notes_** _: I hope you'll join me next week when I post the final chapter: Bullet of the Gods. The action's taken an ominous turn and vampires aren't the only creatures for Neal to dread as he races through the dark forest._

 _Like Peter, when I look at a fire orchid, I see a vampire hidden inside. In case you'd like to sneak a peek, I pinned one to the Pinterest board and it's also in my blog post, An Orchid By Any Other Name. Orchids have a long association with Greece which is home to an abundance of native varieties. The plant's name is derived from the Greek word orchis which is also the name of a Greek mythological character. Electra may have twisted the legend about him for her own purposes. I've written about the legend in my post._

 ** _Blog_** _: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation_ _  
 **Chapter Visuals and Music** : The Fireflies at Midnight board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website: __  
New additions include the fire orchid and astro camp snacks_


	6. Bullet of the Gods

**Chapter 6: Bullet of the Gods**

 **Jenny Jump State Forest. June 22, 2005. Wednesday evening.**

 _Run!_

Never had Neal raced so hard. Not even in Vienna when it seemed the entire Viennese police force was on his heels. That had been so much easier. He was in a city with street lamps to light the way, fire escapes to climb, rooftops to jump over . . .

His pounding footsteps punched out a loud drumbeat: _Here I am. Chase me._

No time for stealth. No smooth pavement in the pitch-black forest to race on. He was scrambling through briars, tripping over tree roots.

The only other time he'd been chased by vampires, he'd been in a swamp with Sam. The vamps appeared from nowhere and were on them in an instant.

Why hadn't they caught up to him yet? Or had they? Had they circled around so he was racing straight toward them?

He sped ever faster . . .

Neal had deliberately let himself be spotted—he couldn't take the risk they'd catch the scent of Amita and Ethan. But he couldn't outrun vampires. He was in a pine forest. The lowest branches were far too high to reach even if he jumped as high as he could. He'd tried climbing one of them, but the bark flaked off in large chunks under his fingers and he was tossed back on the ground.

If this were the city, he could find a dumpster to use for a launching pad. Here, his only hope was to find a tree he could climb. And even then, it might not be good enough. Trees couldn't always be counted on.

This wasn't the first time he'd fled through the woods. Was that why he'd been so terrified for the kids? Neal had only been a couple of years older than Ethan. Back then, he used to love to climb trees. But the tree hadn't saved him. His mom's boyfriend Vance had seized him from the branch he was hanging onto and sent him hurtling to the ground, breaking his arm.

Neal forced thoughts of the abduction out of his mind. How high could vampires jump? Would climbing a tree simply put him in more peril?

 _Run!_

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Peter glanced around the packed classroom of the observatory. They'd finished a careful head count of all the kids and adults. Ethan and Amita were the only children missing. And then there was the biggest kid of them all—Neal. Peter suspected he'd seen them take off and had gone after them, but the thought provided little comfort. He couldn't get a signal on his cell phone. Neal was probably having the same problem.

For once Mozzie was serious and all business. Peter was surprised at what a reassuring, solid presence he was. If this was what Mozzie was like during a heist, it was clear why Neal valued his help so highly. When the occasion demanded it, Mozzie was at his best. He'd delegated some of the older kids as his assistants and they were devising activities to keep the children entertained.

El and Janet had helped question the campers. Roberto Cordera, a trustworthy boy Peter knew well from the spring telescope workshops, had seen Neal near the observatory building with Ethan but hadn't spotted Amita. Had she already been dragged off by vampires? Dean and Sam had mentioned how they'd go after the stragglers, the weakest ones. Peter shoved that dire possibility aside. He needed to stay sharp. Imagining the worst didn't help anyone.

Travis, still in his Vulcan uniform, had gone upstairs to fetch machetes. As soon as he returned, he and Peter would head off to search for them. The buses to take the kids back to camp weren't due to arrive for another forty-five minutes. Peter was leaving El, Janet, and Mozzie in charge. As long as everyone stayed inside, they should be safe. He hated that El was caught up in this. She was doing a good job of keeping her emotions in check and was trying to focus on the children to control her own anxiety.

When Travis returned, he had the machetes wrapped in towels so the kids wouldn't know what they were. He handed Peter a GPS tracking unit as they walked outside. "I brought two in case we get separated. Neal has his watch on but so far the signal's not coming through. Interference with the tree canopy is the probable cause. Once we're closer, we may be able to draw a bead on him."

"Based on what Roberto said, Amita most likely headed for the fireflies in the same area where Mozzie saw them. That means they'll be right next to the woods. If Neal saw vampires, he'd probably lead them to the trees where they'd have a chance to hide." While they were talking, the sound of a fast approaching car was heard accelerating around the bend. An instant later the Impala pulled into view. Peter exhaled in relief at the sight of it.

"Why are you outside?" Dean demanded as he and Sam jumped out of the car. "Get back in the building."

Peter explained what had happened while Travis paced the lot, trying to get a signal off Neal's watch. "We feel confident we know where the kids were going and hope Neal's with them. It's only about a fifteen-minute walk from here. Have you seen any vampires?"

Sam nodded. "Fast-moving shadows in the woods. We passed two groups on our way here."

Peter's heart plummeted at the news.

"Bobby's been on the phone to other hunters," Dean added. "They're spreading out in the park, but the forest covers over four thousand acres."

His words trailed off, but the conclusion was obvious. The vampires were needles in a haystack. That thought gave Peter hope that Neal and the kids were already heading back to camp. Perhaps Amita had just gotten lost. She wasn't taken.

"We heard about a sighting near Ghost Lake," Sam added, "but they took off before the hunters could get to them. Whatever they're up to, they're not treating this as an all-you-can-eat buffet."

Dean jerked his head in Travis's direction. He was now standing at the edge of the parking lot. "What's he doing?"

"Trying to get a signal from Neal's watch." Peter strode over to him. "Any luck?"

"Still nothing."

"I bet Travis can show me how this toy works," Dean said. "There's no need for the two of you to be exposed."

"That's a non-starter," Travis said flatly. "Peter's already told me what to expect. I can swing a machete as well as he can."

Dean eyed his _Star Trek_ uniform skeptically. "A Vulcan on a vampire hunt?"

"I'd say I'm the perfect choice," Travis said calmly. "Vampires won't like my green blood. Some say I already look demonic. They may think I'm one of them."

"We can't go to the firefly location by car," Peter warned. "It's at the edge of a large meadow, and you don't know where it is."

"No skunk cabbage to hide our scent this time," Dean cautioned.

Peter shrugged. "C'mon. Let's get started."

"Wait!" Travis exclaimed, "I got a ping."

"Where?" Peter demanded.

Travis didn't answer. He was checking the location on his tracking unit. "It's not at the edge of the meadow but southwest of here along the ridge of the mountain slope."

Peter studied the location on Travis's digital map. The observatory was built on the summit of a mountain ridge that ran in a diagonal southwest direction, parallel to Shades of Death Road. "That has to be at least thirty minutes away. It's in the rocky part of the ridge. Let's get moving."

As they hiked the trail through the meadow, they constantly scanned in all directions. The occasional low rumbling hoots of a Great Horned Owl alerted them to its ghostly presence. Midway through the meadow the owl startled them by flying directly overhead, its wings not making a sound. The meadow grasses rustled with the scurrying whispers of its prey—field mice and voles. Everyone was on the hunt tonight.

Before they started, Peter had warned the group to be careful about snakes. His heart somersaulted into his throat when his flashlight shone on glowing eyes, but it was a false alarm. The eyes belonged to a fox, not a vampire.

The trail forked at the boundary between meadow and woods. One branch led to the southwest, the other north. The area where he and El had stopped to admire the orchids was only a short distance to the west. The forest was dominated by large white pines. It had been a wet spring and the undergrowth was lush on either side of the narrow trails.

"This way," Travis whispered, indicating the path heading to the southwest.

There continued to be no sign of vampires, but no one was letting down his guard. The trail took them along rocky outcrops scattered among dense brambles and trees.

Travis moved alongside Peter. "I think I know where they are. This is close to the cave Mozzie discovered. They must have sought shelter there."

When they arrived at the cave, Travis confirmed that the signal was coming from inside. Peter understood why Neal had chosen it. The shallow entrance was less than three feet high and hidden by brambles. They'd have to crawl to get inside.

"I'll go first," Dean insisted. "It may be a trap." Before the others could object, he already started inside, but Peter was right after him.

Once they were within the cave, they could stand upright. It was completely silent when they entered. Had Neal and the kids been dragged off and the watch left behind? Their calls were going unanswered. They were using their flashlights to check for hidden recesses.

"Neal, it's me, Peter." Peter could hear the strain in his voice. No one responded, and he called again. There were some narrow crevices. Had Neal managed to snake inside one? Was he lying unconscious? No sign of the kids.

"Peter?" The high-pitched, quavering voice sounded scared.

"Ethan! Is that you? You can come out now. It's safe. Is Amita with you?"

"We're both here!" Amita called out. First one then two small heads poked out from a crevice on the far side of the cave. It was partially obscured by overhanging rocks. The kids must have had help to get inside.

"Was Neal with you?" Sam asked, lifting them out.

Ethan nodded vigorously, handing Peter Neal's watch. "He led the bad guys away. He told us you'd find us."

"Did you see the bad guys?" Peter asked.

Amita tugged at his hand. "There were five of them. They ran like Roadrunner."

"Like a bird?" Travis asked, looking puzzled.

"No, the cartoon. They were so fast all we saw were blurry streaks."

Peter exchanged knowing looks with Dean. Vampires, all right.

The kids were dirty but uninjured. They didn't appear scared and were treating it as a big adventure. Peter was reminded of Tom Sawyer and Becky. Fortunately for these two, it didn't wind up being as scary a story.

But they still had Huck Finn to rescue. Ethan told him Neal was heading north from the fork in the trail. He could be anywhere by now.

Dean eyed Peter dubiously. "I don't expect I can convince you to go back with the kids?"

"Don't waste your time."

Sam jerked his head to the cave entrance. "Two of us better go back to the observatory with the kids in case the bad guys return." Peter was glad no one was using the word _vampire_.

Travis nodded agreement. "We can all go on the trail together till the fork."

Once the excitement had worn off, Amita and Ethan were falling asleep on their feet. Travis and Sam each scooped one up in their arms as they walked back.

They retraced their steps to the fork without incident. The spotty cell phone coverage continued to be an issue. Neal still wasn't responding and Dean couldn't reach Bobby, but Peter was able to contact Mozzie. All was quiet at the observatory. El and Janet had set up an impromptu dorm with the mats they normally used outside and the younger kids were already asleep. Mozzie promised to hold the bus for their return.

When Sam and Travis turned toward the meadow, Peter and Dean headed north up the mountain. It brought back memories of Peter's previous hunt for vampires with Dean in the South Jersey swamp. Then Neal and Sam were being held in an abandoned shed. There was no such building that Peter was aware of in the forest. They had to use their flashlights to avoid tree roots and rocks. Since they were already broadcasting their presence, there was no need to keep quiet. In any case, vampires would have been able to smell them before they saw the lights.

Peter stopped in mid-thought. Here he was analyzing a vampire's movements as if he were any other criminal. Unbelievable. Travis teased Mozzie about Mulder being in the basement of the Bureau's headquarters in New York. Should Peter open an office for supernatural criminals next door? Or even better, he'd send all his reports to Mulder and let him handle it.

"Does Neal do this a lot?" Dean asked, stumbling over a fallen branch and letting out a curse.

"Wander off and need to be rescued? He does have that inclination. His GPS watch is supposed to take care of the problem."

They trudged on in the darkness, calling out Neal's name. Peter was keeping his curses to himself. Focus on what was important. The kids were safe. Huck Finn would be too. But after twenty minutes with nothing to show for it but bug bites, the grizzly in him was starting to emerge. When they were on vampire patrol the previous night, Dean had recounted some of their recent jobs. From the sound of it Dean and Sam had to extricate each other out of similar situations twenty-four seven. At least Neal had the courtesy to give Peter the occasional day off.

"Hi, guys!" A voice called out from a distance to the side of the trail. "Miss me?"

Peter stopped in his tracks as Neal scrambled through the underbrush to reach them.

Dean shone his flashlight to light Neal's way. "Battle wounds?"

"Nah, I'm good. How about Amita and Ethan?" he added anxiously. "Did you find them?"

"They're fine," Peter assured him. "Travis and Sam took them back to the observatory. Prove to us that you're in as good as shape as them."

Neal forced his way through a thicket to stand beside him. In the light of their flashlights he looked grimy and exhausted with an assortment of scrapes and a t-shirt that was destined for the rag bag, but no blood, no fang marks. Peter took his first decent breath in hours.

Neal explained how he'd climbed a tree to escape the vampires. "I ran like hell, but it took longer than I'd hoped to find a suitable tree. I finally had to jump from an oak tree over to a pine and then finish the climb."

"Did you see them again?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, they passed right underneath me about five minutes after I climbed the tree. I couldn't figure out why they hadn't caught up with me, but for vampires, they were slow. When they were close to my tree, they stopped and sniffed the air for a few minutes. I could see them talking among themselves. They must have decided I wasn't worth the effort, because afterward they took off. I waited a few minutes then decided it was safe to come down. I was on my way back when I saw your flashlight."

"How were you able to see them?" Dean asked. "They don't use flashlights, not with their night vision."

"They had a human torch with them. Maybe it was one of the pure-bloods? There were six of them, but this one was different. His skin glowed like it was lit by an internal fire. And here's the other weird thing. He was stark naked. He looked human, but you'd need oven mitts to touch him."

"Huh." Dean looked at Neal doubtfully. "A man-sized firefly? That's a new one."

Neal shrugged. "Maybe Mozzie was right after all. Those fireflies were the advance guard of a giant firefly invasion. Just wait till I tell him. When we first spotted the vampires, I was sure there were five of them, but when I returned to the meadow they were standing in a circle around this guy."

"Could you see the human torch's face?" Peter asked. He refused to call him a firefly. There were limits.

Neal shook his head. "Not well. He had blond hair. He was slim, tall, and glowed. That's about all I could tell."

As they walked back down the trail, they were all keeping a careful watch for vampires—glowing or non-glowing—but didn't find any.

Neal continued to grill them about Ethan and Amita.

"You coached them well," Dean said. "We didn't know anyone was there till Ethan finally responded to Peter's voice."

"They were brave kids, a lot braver than me," Neal admitted. He tripped and Peter put out an arm to steady him. "Sorry, tree roots have not been my friend tonight." He looked embarrassed by his shakiness.

"You're having a delayed reaction to what occurred," Peter said, staying close to offer more assistance if needed. "I know the feeling well."

"I've had plenty of narrow escapes," Neal huffed, "but this one did a number on me."

Dean shrugged. "It happens. Cut yourself some slack. When you're responsible for others, it can take a while to snap back. It's especially bad when kids are involved. You'll be all right."

Surprised, Peter looked at him with a new appreciation. He was about to say something similar, but Dean said it better. "It could have been worse," Peter added, trying to lighten Neal's mood. "No ghosts, right?"

His attempt fell flat as Neal's only response was to wince.

Dean stopped him. "You saw the ghost of Jenny?"

He shook his head. "No, forget it." Glancing over at Peter, he muttered, "Vance better not come back as a spirit."

Vance was the man who'd kidnapped Neal as a child and had come within a hair's breadth of killing him. Running alone at night in the woods? Yeah, that would dredge up some unwanted memories.

Dean was still looking puzzled. "Not all monsters are supernatural ones," Peter explained.

He nodded understanding. "Got it."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Neal woke up early even though it was well past midnight by the time they went to bed. He was a light sleeper and something had awakened him. A few grunts were coming from one of the bunks. That was probably Dean. He'd stayed overnight with them since Chloe had already left. Bunks beds in a dorm room were a part of camp that Neal wouldn't miss.

He'd slept better than expected. No nightmares about vampires in the woods. But what a dream. Neal kept thinking back on it.

He crept soundlessly out of bed and closed the door to the bunk room behind him. Entering the kitchen, he was surprised to see Sam already up and the coffee made. He was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop powered on. Satchmo was sitting on the floor next to him and wagged a greeting.

"What time did you get up?" Neal asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Half-hour ago I guess."

Neal glanced over at him. He had shadows under his eyes and looked like he should have spent at least a couple of extra hours in bed. "Couldn't sleep?"

Sam rubbed his eyes and nodded.

"I know the feeling. Nightmares?"

"Not exactly, just strange."

"Can't be stranger than mine."

Sam chuckled. "Wanna bet?"

"Don't need to. I know I'd win. I dreamed I was Manet painting in the meadow." Neal didn't describe what happened. That was just embarrassing.

"That's nothing," Sam scoffed. "I was wearing a toga at some ancient temple, spouting poetry. There was a Vestal Virgin. She and I . . . " Sam stopped and grinned. "Let's just say that she'll need to find a new job. Don't tell Dean. He'd never let me live it down."

"That's not so bad. You should be glad it wasn't that woman in a veil you were dreaming about."

"Yeah, you're right," Sam said, taking a sip of coffee.

"You thinking of asking Maia out?"

He chuckled. "My subconscious certainly is."

"Your subconscious has good taste."

Sam grinned like a lovestruck teenager. It was abundantly clear he was sweet on her.

What was good for Sam wouldn't be a bad idea for him either. That new art student who'd taken possession of the studio next to his at Columbia had been friendly. He should ask her out. Neal's time in the country, even with a few vampires thrown in, had been just what he needed. He'd been able to put some distance between himself and what had happened with Fiona.

Travis strolled in, yawning, and helped himself to a cup of coffee. "You two got up early. Any fresh vampire reports?"

"Nah. The vamp-ometer hasn't let out a peep," Sam said.

"Do you own a vamp-ometer?" Travis asked, suddenly looking much more awake. White Collar's tech expert was evidently expecting an electronic marvel and was crestfallen to hear Sam was instead referring to Bobby.

"Do you plan to tell Richard about the vampires?" Neal asked.

Travis grinned. "I'm looking forward to it."

"He probably won't believe you," Sam warned.

"You don't know Richard," Travis countered. "He's from New Orleans. They take supernatural events very seriously down there."

"He made me a voodoo doll last fall to exorcise evil spirits," Neal added. "Back then I thought it was a joke. Now, I'm not so sure."

"And don't forget the one he keeps in his fencing locker," Travis pointed out. "Richard attended a séance or two when he was a college student at Tulane. He's told me some pretty wild legends about Louisiana creatures, including not a few vampires. Have you ever heard of a Rougarou?"

"No, what's that?" Sam asked.

"Some sort of wolf-human hybrid that stalks the swamps, sucking human blood from their hapless victims. Richard says there are so many legends about them, they must exist. His family claims to be descended from the pirate Jean LaFitte and there are stories about his ghost being seen in the bayous."

Neal listened, fascinated. He knew Richard was into science fiction, but hadn't heard about his interest in the paranormal. It now made more sense why Travis had treated the news of vampires heading for the park so seriously. For someone who scanned the skies for signs of extraterrestrial life, Dean and Sam's search for monsters on Earth must not have seemed that unusual.

Travis explained how Richard had read Anne Rice's _Vampire Chronicles_ and they'd inspired him to delve into the old tales of New Orleans vampires. "I remember him telling me about a French count from the 1700s who supposedly still visits New Orleans. Have you ever killed any vampires in New Orleans?"

"Not yet," Sam said, "but the way their numbers are increasing, we may not have long to wait."

Travis pursed his lips for a moment. "We're planning to visit Richard's mom in New Orleans next year. It will be my first time there. We may need to drive rather than fly. Taking a machete on board a plane could present issues."

Even for Travis, he was being unexpectedly nonchalant about it. Neal didn't know if he would be, not after last night.

"Do Jones and Diana know about your encounters with witches and vampires?" Travis asked him.

"Peter's been keeping it a secret. You're the only other one at White Collar who knows what really happened to Hagen."

"That he was possessed by a demon named Crowley? Yeah, I can see where that would be difficult to explain to the Bureau. I plan to read what Peter wrote in the file about that incident when I get back to the office." He turned to Sam. "Now that you know about the pure-bloods, how will they factor into your work?"

"We'll spread the word around. Eventually one of them will surface and we'll have to deal with it. Hopefully pure-bloods can be killed like regular vampires. If not, all bets are off."

 **Electra and Maia's room. The Inn at Millrace Pond. Thursday morning.**

"You look very pleased." Electra watched Maia fold a dress for her suitcase. She'd been glowing all morning. Had she visited Sam again? _Naughty little sister, cheating already?_ But since she'd done the same with Neal, she'd let it pass.

"And why wouldn't I be?" Maia said, only a tad defensively. "We have thirteen new pure-bloods on their way to their new homes. Soon our selection pool will be spread throughout the country. Do you know when the next alignment will occur?"

Electra zipped up her suitcase. "Not for a few years, unfortunately. Gemma said the situation is growing dire in Continental Europe. I'd already agreed to dispatch two pure-bloods to our sisters in Venice and Zagreb. We may need to send still more." At Maia's frown, she added, "Don't pout. We'll still have plenty. I've saved the best for us."

"When does her plane leave?"

"She'll fly out of New York City this afternoon."

Maia made a face. "Why doesn't she simply teleport her way back?"

"You know why. Every time we use magic, we increase the risk of discovery. I'm fond of our present forms, especially now that I've met such charming new friends."

"I think I'll invite Chloe out to lunch after I've picked out my cottage."

"Your love nest for Sam?"

"I can hardly let him stay at our house, can I? I plan to acquire a dog as well. Sam likes dogs." She paused for a moment, caressing her silk robe. "Perhaps a Russian wolfhound."

"Make sure it likes cats. You don't think it may be too large?"

Maia shrugged. "Sam would prefer a large dog. Can you picture him with a toy terrier?"

"With ribbons? No, I don't think so."

"I shall name her Tatyana, in honor of my dear Sasha."

Electra smiled tolerantly at her. Pushkin has long been Maia's favorite protégé. She'd bought a Russian wolfhound for him, too. She'd kept it at their country dacha. Was Maia equating Sam with Sasha? She'd taken Pushkin's death very hard. That could explain the depth of her infatuation.

Maia was gazing dreamily out the window. "Sasha expressed his love for me in _Eugene Onegin_. How will Sam?" She turned to regard Electra. "What about you, sister? What plans are you concocting?"

Electra drained her glass of blood. "I believe a trip to New York City is in order. I've heard of a promising young artist I may wish to cultivate."

"Let me guess. He wouldn't happen to have the initials N.C.?" Maia raised her glass to her and smiled. "Should we make a pact? No more feasting off them until we've indulged in the pleasures of the flesh?"

"You're on, but no more cheating," she warned. Would Maia be able to control her appetite? For that matter, would she? From Maia's smile, she knew she was thinking the same thing.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

"What is that?"

Peter stared in amazement at the oblong rock Travis had placed on the table in the classroom. It was dark carmine red. One end was rounded and smooth as if it had been polished. "A bullet from the gods?"

He and El had arrived at the observatory that morning to find Neal, Travis, Mozzie, Janet and the Winchesters gathered in the classroom.

"An excellent description," Travis said. "This is an iron meteorite. The nose cone effect was caused by the surface melting in entry. It was still warm to the touch when we found it. It must be one of the meteors we saw in the night sky on Tuesday."

"While you two were still shacked up," Dean added, "the rest of us investigated the area where Neal saw the vampires holding their powwow. We took our EMF meter along."

El stopped studying the meteorite to look up. "What's an EMF meter?"

"It reads electromagnetic frequencies." Sam said, showing her his detector. "Anything that uses electricity emits some EMF but unusually high readings can indicate paranormal activity."

Mozzie broke in impatiently. "Get to the good stuff. When we arrived at the spot—"

"—the same area where we'd found the fire orchids that morning," Janet interrupted, "the flowers have vanished. I'm certain we were at the correct location, but there's not a trace of them now."

"And that's when our EMF meter went off the charts," Dean concluded. "I swear to God I've never seen anything like it."

"We pulled away the log where Janet said the orchids had been growing," Travis said. "That's when we found it—a small, deep impact crater. The meteorite had plunged about two feet into the ground. I've already alerted SETI. Its composition cries out to be analyzed." His face took on an awe-struck expression. "This could have come from the body that emitted the radio waves earlier."

Everyone began to speak at once, interrupting each other in their elation.

In the midst of the din, the door opened and Bobby walked in. He took one look at the meteorite and sighed. "Didn't we already have enough to deal with?"

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Bringing Bobby up to speed with the meteorite didn't take long, but finding out why he was so pissed was trickier. Dean scanned the assembled group. _Since when do hunters operate in committees?_

He and Sam were loners, not because they were forced to but because it was safer for everyone that way. Instead, here they were surrounded by a bunch of tenderfeet. The men, okay, he could put up with them. And Janet, she'd already met Dean the Dork, so he'd give her a pass. Since she'd paired up with the resident flake, she was beyond help anyway. But Elizabeth? Hell, no. She didn't belong here.

Bobby, to his credit, made an effort to get her to leave, but she insisted on being included for the discussion. Apparently she was every bit as stubborn as her husband. So fine, if she couldn't sleep at night, it'd be her own fault.

"I heard back from a hunter in England," Bobby said. "I'd put out an alert on the anistemi and kicked everyone's butt to stop messing around and go look under every rock. One of them came up with the scorpion. He found a reclusive hunter named Finnerty who specializes in fangs. I talked with him this morning. Finnerty claims they have some association with the standing stones in England."

"You mean like Stonehenge?" Sam asked.

"That's right. Finnerty's also heard that pure-bloods can only be created during certain stellar alignments. That partially confirms the Romanian account Stefan found. That so-called glowing torch Neal saw was probably a pure blood. He said they were moving slowly. Maybe pure-bloods need time to gain their full strength. That could explain why the vampires were here. They were acting as bodyguards."

"Does Finnerty have any other information about them?" Peter asked, taking notes.

"They're bad ass, uber-vamps just like we thought. Supposedly they have the ability to charm their victims. Finnerty's heard tales that a pure-blood establishes a mini-kingdom—fiefdom I think he called it—where normal home-grown vamps serve him as lord and master. Finnerty claimed, and he didn't sound like he'd been dipping into the blue label Scotch, that the pure-bloods start off as flowers."

"I knew it!" Janet exclaimed triumphantly. "It was those orchids, wasn't it?"

Bobby grudgingly nodded. "Wacko as it sounds, you may be right. Finnerty read an account of an Irish medieval monk who supposedly witnessed it. He described blood-red flowers with the faces of vampires who transformed in a day to these pure-bloods."

Janet reached into her bag and pulled out her sketchbook. Thumbing through the pages, she stopped at an illustration and passed it to him. "What do you think?"

Bobby grimaced. "Yep, that looks like a vampire flower to me."

El gazed around at them, disbelief on her face. "Surely you can't believe that vampires sprang up from flowers? This sounds like a fairy tale that took a twisted turn into weird science-fiction."

Sam shrugged. "You'd be surprised at how much truth there is in some fairy tales."

Travis had been quiet throughout much of the exchange, a thoughtful look on his face. The dude always looked like he was pondering equations in his head. "We have to keep an open mind to any possibility." Dean restrained himself from any eye-rolling. That's just what a Vulcan G-Man would say. "Piecing together what we've learned so far, we're saying that a deity by the name of Astrena works some sort of spell during the summer solstice which causes a meteor shower. Where a meteor crashes to earth, vampire flowers spring up and in a day turn into a special breed called pure-bloods."

"I need a beer," Bobby said. "God help us but that's just what I said."

"You forgot the fireflies," Mozzie protested. "They predict the event."

Dean heard Peter mutter to El, "I'm glad you stayed. If I'd told you this, no way would you have believed me."

"Did you find out anything more about Astrena?" Sam asked.

Bobby grimaced. "Do you expect me to do everything for you? It's only been a couple of days."

"Prepare to be enlightened," Mozzie said. "I spent a productive night by connecting to my server in New York while the rest of you were sleeping. It's been a long time since I've had an excuse to peruse through the giants of Greek civilization. Homer was enlightening, but I found an obscure text by Hesiod which refers to Astrena. The text is in the library of an old monastery near Rome, Farfa Abbey. I was able to obtain a copy years ago for my private collection."

"What does he say?" Dean asked, breaking in before E.T's brother could launch into a description of everything in his collection.

"In Hesiod's account of creation, out of the nothingness of the world which was known as Chaos emerged Gaia—also known as Earth—as well as some other immortals. I find it fascinating that Eros, or of the god of love, was one of the first immortals. Another one is Erebus, the personification of the Darkness. Out of the union of Erebus with Nyx, the personification of Night, sprang several offspring, including Astrena. This is where it becomes particularly relevant for our purposes. Hesiod describes her as the goddess from whom sprang the ancient Greek equivalents of not just vampires but witches as well. "

Dean stared at him. "You're telling me she's the mother of both witches and vampires? She's the ultimate witch-pire?"

"Balls," Bobby muttered. "Could this get any worse?"

Mozzie nodded complacently. "Yes, I believe it can. After I read that passage, I contacted an acquaintance at the Vatican library. Charming man—quite the scholar on mythology and also a delightful drinking partner. It was morning in Rome, and he was thrilled to hear from me. A natural response. I asked him if he'd ever heard of Astrena. He said she's occasionally popped up in references to witches and vampires. During the Inquisition, some confessed under torture to having worshipped her. The most detailed account is that she has several so-called sisters. They weren't listed in the original Greek legends, but during the Renaissance the Jesuits believed Astrena had elevated several demons to act as sisters. The Jesuits claimed the demonic sisters were well-versed in potions and could even bewitch flowers."

"Are the sisters vampires?" Neal asked.

"Apparently not in the typical sense. They eat regular food but they have a taste for blood similar to our fondness for wine. The witch who died under torture claimed the sisters could enter minds psychically and feed on the creative energy inside. My contact promised to get back to me with more information. He's been personally interested in Astrena for quite a while. The Greeks believed she could suck out someone's life force. She was particularly known for preying on artists and poets."

"Neal, you've got that look on your face," Peter said. "What are you thinking?"

"You remember Scott Pembroke, that artist in Connecticut? He wasted away and appeared to be controlled by a witch. Could she have been Astrena or one of her demon sisters?"

"If that's true, does that mean those other artists on the walls of her office were victims?" Peter asked. Dean was impressed that instead of blowing away the idea, he expanded on it.

"Were you ever able to find out anything about those paintings?" Sam asked.

Neal shook his head. "I never could find a reference for any of them. There's no way of proving they were lost genuine masterpieces, although that's what my eyes were telling me."

"You better be careful," Janet warned. "You're in a high-risk group."

"I'm a nobody," Neal scoffed. "Those were all famous artists. Astrena and her sisters wouldn't be interested in me."

"This is one demon who can't have any interest in Sam and me," Dean said. "Even my stick figures laugh at me."

"You talk as if she's real, but these are all just myths and legends," El protested. "Astrena couldn't really exist."

Sam shrugged. "One person's myth is another person's religion. People believe in God, in Lucifer. Demons are real. Vampires and witches are real. I wouldn't rush to any judgments."

"But it's not your problem. We'll deal with it." Dean stood up. "Camp's over. It's time to join the real world. We'll hang around at Bobby's a little while longer to make sure no fangs decided to make a permanent nest in the area then move on to the next job."

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Dean helped Sam load his gear into the Impala. Bobby had just driven off in his pickup. Mozzie and Janet had accompanied them out. Dean was amused to see how flustered Bobby looked when Janet hugged him. She realized what Dean did. Mozzie and Bobby were brothers from some decidedly weird mothers. Neal was one lucky dude to not only have Peter in his life but Mozzie too.

Dean razzed Sam a little about his camp experience, but all things considered, it had been a winner as far as he was concerned. Sam looked happier than he had in a long time. In honor of the moment, Dean vowed to lay off the teasing for a while. One day should be adequate.

The machetes had all been retrieved and placed in the trunk when Peter stepped outside and thanked them for their help. That was nice. Thanks were hard to come by in their business.

"It's what we do," Dean replied, shrugging it off. "You're in the free and clear. You can get back to your lives now."

"Look, if you need someone to . . . you know . . . give me a call." He looked increasingly uncomfortable. "I know you have Bobby, but if he's not enough . . . . You have a run-in with the law, I may be able to help smooth things over. _Not_ that I'm encouraging you to get mixed up with police matters." Adopting a stern look and appearing much more at ease, he added, "No pretending to be FBI agents, no breaking of any rules—"

Dean grinned. "Gee, Peter. Are we having a kumbaya moment?"

"Bear hugs all around?" Sam suggested.

"Get out of here, before I arrest you myself," Peter said chuckling, "and thanks again."

Sam was still grinning as they drove off. "What did you make of that?"

"Peter going Papa Bear? I don't know, man." He glanced over at Sam. "I don't think anyone's gonna call you Baby Bear. Although, come to think of it . . . you do have a Goldilocks in your life now."

So much for a truce on teases. Sam could roll his eyes all he liked. After the ragging he'd subjected Dean to about Chloe, it was payback time. But Dean didn't want to torment Sam to the point he'd not call Maia. She lived in New Haven. Chloe was working in New Haven. He and Sam might need to hang out in the Northeast for a while. All these fangs running amok. Bobby staying here. Papa Bear Burke to bail them out of jail . . . Dean slapped in a cassette of "Glory Days," and stepped on the gas. Those camp t-shirts might have been a good luck charm, 'cause life was definitely looking up.

 **WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Peter turned away from the Impala to see Neal lounging by the observatory door, grinning at him.

"Did you ask them about Bigfoot?" he asked, an expression of total guilelessness on his face.

"You didn't tell them, did you?" Once in a weak moment, Peter had confided to Neal how his brother had tricked him into believing they'd found Bigfoot when Peter was a child. "That was supposed to stay a secret between the two of us."

"And it has," Neal quickly assured him. "No, I thought they might have run into the real thing. Vampires used to be legends. Now we know they're real. Will Bigfoot be next?"

Peter obliged with the groan he knew Neal was expecting. "Let's save Bigfoot for another road trip." This was one instance he was glad to be teased. It showed Neal wasn't still stressing about the previous night.

Peter wished he could say the same. Why did Neal have to be such a vampire magnet? The news about Astrena and her connection to artists was troubling. Neal didn't appear bothered by it, but Peter was. He remembered all too well how that witch in Connecticut had admired Neal. And those vampires sniffing at the base of the tree . . . Dean had said that a vampire never forgets a scent.

On the plus side, Neal seemed to be feeling fine. He was eating well. And what would Peter do if Neal started to waste away? Call in a witch doctor? Ask Chloe to perform a spell on him? What kind of side effects would her spell have?

"Are you feeling okay?" Neal asked, looking at him curiously. "Too many pastries at breakfast?"

"Just a case of Neal-anxiety. You'll let me know if you start to feel puny?"

"Are you worried about Astrena? Do you want me to drop to the ground and do push-ups?"

"I get the point. But with everything's that been going on, you can't blame me for being concerned. You're the only artist at White Collar, so you get the full brunt of it."

"And I appreciate it, really. I promise that if I start to feel too weak to hold up a paintbrush, you'll be the first to know. This anxiety is just you missing your home turf. Too much fresh air can do a number on you."

"I'm not gonna argue with you on that. In fact, I'm thinking of swearing off road trips."

"El won't like that. She enjoyed the inn. I bet she's planning her next trip."

"In that case, she better check with the Winchesters first. Because wherever they are, I'll make sure we're heading in the opposite direction."

* * *

 ** _Notes_** _: Thanks for reading!_

 _While Electra and Maia plot their next moves, Neal and Peter pack up to return to New York. Their next case is about to begin._ _In preparation, Peter has given the go-ahead to Diana to publish the next story in the Arkham Files series, The Crypt. This story contains subliminal messages from Peter to the cybercriminal Azathoth. If you'd like to refresh your memory of what happened in the previous stories, I've posted short summaries (with spoilers) on our blog. The post is called "Inside the Arkham Files Vault." I also posted a summary of the stories and supernatural beings in Crossed Lines. It contains a short teaser for the next story in the series, Dark Rabbit. The name of the post is "The Road So Far."_

 _Rugarus exist in the Supernatural canon. Dean and Sam will run into one for the first time in Season 4. In this series, the crystal ball is still murky on Rugarus. Bigfoot may be too tempting a subject to resist. Count St. German and the New Orleans tales are also popular legends in bayou country._

 _Many thanks to Penna for the idea of including Vance in this chapter and for her outstanding beta services throughout the entire story. Neal didn't have to confront Vance in this story, but he may make an appearance at a later date. Neal described the abduction in Chapter 24 of Caffrey Flashback._

 _Mother's Day is next Sunday, and Penna and I would like to wish all the Moms a wonderful holiday with your families! If you'd like to spend Mother's Day with Caffrey Conversation, Penna wrote about Mother's Day in Caffrey Vignettes: Homecoming.  
_

 _Penna is issuing a revised version of her story, By the Book. It will be posted in time for Mother's Day. Thanks to the generosity of a French-speaking writer, she has incorporated French dialog into the story. By the Book takes place early in the Caffrey Conversation timeline, shortly after Neal was recruited by Peter. It also introduces Henry to the cast. It's a nostalgic trip down memory lane which I can't wait to re-read! Penna will shortly publish a blog post about the experience, called "By the Book: Panic Phrase."_

 ** _Upcoming Stories_** _:_

 _\- Arkham Files: The Crypt. Sequel to The Locked Room. To be posted starting on May 24. Neal and Peter discover a dark secret buried underneath Arkham which will set them on a new course._

 _\- Nocturne in Black and Gold. Sequel to Echoes of a Violin._

 _\- Dark Rabbit. Sequel to Fireflies at Midnight._

 ** _Blog_** _: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation_ _  
 **Chapter Visuals and Music** : The Fireflies at Midnight board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website_ _  
New additions include the meteorite, Vestal Virgins for Sam, and a pin of Vance for everyone to boo at._


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